A Small Favor
by Lucinda
Summary: Willow needs a bit of assistance to get possession of a magical talisman. AU post season 4 BtVS, and AU in that Remy was never an X-Man.
1. A Small Favor

author: Lucinda  
rating: pg 13  
pairing: Willow/Remy QPC #135  
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or from X-Men/Marvel Comics.  
distribution: any lists that I send it to, otherwise please ask.  
note: AU post season 4 BtVS, AU in general from X-Men. Tara was a demon & left after that was uncovered. Remy never joined the X-Men.

Willow found herself blinking as she attempted to process everything that Giles had just told her. One of the most prosperous residents of the Los Angeles suburbs had in his possession a talisman that could summon a dark and terrible power to this earth, and was just enough of a dabbler in magic to try it? More so, SHE was supposed to come up with a plan to get said talisman away from him?

If Giles hadn't been so serious, she'd be laughing right now. After Spike had discovered the fact that her girlfriend had really been a demon in disguise, trying to manipulate her for some still undetermined ulterior motive, she'd felt like her life had fallen apart. Her parents had been home just enough to interrogate her every few months about her schoolwork, generally right in time for her efforts to study for mid-terms. The dorm had been half wrecked from a combination of a big demon and a terrible storm, forcing her to move back into her parents' house and completely frying her computer.

"Giles... how am I supposed to get this talisman anyhow?" She really had no idea what to do about this situation.

Giles sighed, attempting to take a drink of his tea only to discover that the cup was already empty. "I don't really know... buy it, steal it... just make certain that he doesn't use it to open that portal."

"Steal it? Giles, I'm not a thief! Wait... hmmm... I think... Let me go make a few phone calls." Willow's mind was working quickly. She wasn't a thief, she couldn't possible get the talisman by herself. But... maybe she could hire someone to do the job for her?

After a few phone calls and some careful negotiation, Willow found herself speaking to 'a representative of the Guild'. She'd contacted the New Orleans Thieves Guild, the finest gathering of independent thieves on the continent. They didn't belong to the Mafia, the Yakuza, or any of the Triad gangs. They worked for themselves, or for private contracts for particular jobs.

She found herself talking to a man with a charming Cajun accent. He seemed determined to flirt shamelessly while getting the details of what she wanted done. It wasn't particularly complex, she wanted them to send someone to remove a particular talisman, which she could fax a description and illustration of, yes, there was a photograph to a fax number if they'd give her one. She had the address where it was kept, and there was bound to be other easily removable items that they might find of interest. She just wanted them to have someone steal the talisman and bring it to her.

All they wanted in return was the Potion of AlHamir. It was a carefully brewed potion that would slow the aging process by a factor of ten, so that a person would only age one year for every ten that passed. Complicated, but she could get the ingredients, and it was within her abilities to make it.

"No' going to be a problem. We get de talisman for you, have it delivered right to your door. Jus' be ready wit' the potion." The Cajun on the other end seemed appallingly cheerful as he hung up the phone.

She made her way to the Magic Box, one hand moving in what could have been arcane patterns as she considered the list of ingredients. She wasn't actually making mystical gestures, but more of a motion narrated mental listing of the procedures involved. Chopping, stirring, sifting, straining... it was a complicated potion. The fact that she was muttering the ingredients under her breath like a litany didn't help.

"Willow, what exactly are you doing?" Giles sounded rather disturbed as he offered the question in place of a greeting.

She looked up, giving a small smile. "I contacted someone to arrange to get a hold of that item you mentioned. There was just a teeny little matter of what they wanted in exchange... a certain... aromatic blend." She glanced at the gathering of people browsing the section of New Age books and tarot cards.

Following her rapid glance, Giles sighed at the customers. "Yes... will this blend be particularly troublesome?"

"More complicated, tedious and time consuming than anything else. And some of the ingredients are a bit expensive. I'll just go get it started in the back." For a moment, Willow let herself try to imagine how her life might have gone if Sunnydale was a normal town, one without the hordes of demons and vampires. She drew a blank, unable to picture herself in a 'normal life'.

It took her three days to brew the potion. By the end, her skin had picked up the scent of it, something faintly like cedar and ginger and a hint of amber. The potion was perfect, and she'd placed it into a light brown bottle, the neck collared with chips of tiger eye and bronze beads, giving it an exotic look. Carefully, she placed it in her backpack, and made her way back to the Rosenberg residence, simply feeling glad that her parents were gone again. She let herself into the house, closing the door behind her, and sighed, reaching her senses out as she tried to relax...

And felt someone else in the house. He was lounging on the couch, his aura non-threatening, but not quite human. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"You wanted me to bring you something. I got the talisman, do you got the potion of AlHamir?" It was the same Cajun accented voice from the phone.

She carefully pulled it out of her backpack, her senses alert for anything. Walking closer, she tried to get a good look at her... visitor? her thief? "Your eyes seem to be glowing... shall I assume that you're a mutant?"

"Correct. You didn't mention how pretty you are over the phone." He sounded as if he was still flirting with her.

She made her way to the table, a careful thought lighting a few candles. The flickering golden light gave a little illumination, showing that the man was fairly handsome, and looked human except for his eyes, red coals on pools of shadow. His clothing was torn, and there was fresh blood at his shoulder.

"There were a few complications at the residence." He held up the talisman in one hand. Smiling in something halfway between flirtatious and arrogant, he continued. "The price has gone up. Have dinner with me on Friday."

Willow felt herself gaping at him. The very idea that someone would want a date with her was never very well established in her mind, and to have this man, charming, handsome, and highly capable in his chosen profession demanding a date with her... "You're having me go to dinner with you? Like a date? As part of the price for stealing the talisman? This would only happen to me..."

"Dinner, Friday. I pick you up at eight." He was smiling, as if he had some idea how much turmoil his words had thrown her into, and found it interesting.

She gave a small laugh, managing to keep herself from hysterics by a tiny thread of control. He really wanted her to go to dinner with him, although she couldn't quite follow why he would want that. "Right... Dinner. Okay, but I need your name."

He reached out, kissing one of her hands. "I am Remy. Friday won't be here soon enough, belle Willow."

With a smile, he held up the talisman, its power feeling almost like a hissing buzz, and pressed it into the hand that he'd kissed, a small smile implying that someone else might not have been able to give her the talisman. She held up the bottle, and he carefully, almost reverently lifted the bottle, looking at the fluid inside with intensity. "You came through with your side... all the more reason to spend more time with you. There are a lot of people who think that we don't play fair."

Willow felt like her heart was beating faster, and she was aware of his scent, a hint of musk, and something almost like spices... mmm. "People don't expect your Guild to deal in a professional manner? But... if you didn't... well, didn't provide the specified services, wouldn't people stop hiring you?"

"Something like. But they want to look down on us for being thieves, an' it easier if we don't have that professional streak in us. There is also the fact that most people would not have been able to find this potion... You got some talent. Beautiful, talented, and willing to give me and my guild some credit for integrity... is it any wonder I want to get to know you better?" His voice almost sounded wistful, as if hinting that he'd found far too many people who were determined to think badly of him.

"I don't know you well enough to look down on you... and that was out loud, wasn't it? You're a very handsome man, Remy. It would be interesting and... umm... I'd like to get to know you better." She could feel herself blushing.

end Small Favor?


	2. Just Dinner, Right?

Just Dinner, Right?

author: Lucinda

rating: pg 13

sequel to 'A Small Favor'

pairing: Willow/Remy QPC #135

disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or from X-Men/Marvel Comics.

distribution: any lists that I send it to, otherwise please ask.

note: AU post season 4 BtVS, AU in general from X-Men. Tara was a demon & left after that was uncovered. Remy never joined the X-Men.

Willow felt rather nervous. It was Friday, the day that Remy, the handsome and oh so charming thief that she'd hired to steal an amulet had demanded that she go out to dinner with him. On one hand, she could appreciate the idea that getting injured might make him a bit less happy bout the job, but… why did he want dinner with her? It didn't make sense, and it made her a bit uneasy.

Especially since she wasn't quite certain what sort of dinner he had in mind. Finally, she settled on a dark green gown made out of velvet, with little patterns cut into the neckline, hem and the cuffs of the sleeves. She wore a little makeup, and some dainty gold jewelry. Nothing too much, but enough that she wouldn't feel out of place if they went somewhere nice. Now… all she had to do was fidget and wait.

The doorbell rang at precisely eight. Remy was there, dressed in a dark jacket and matching slacks, the shirt almost the same red as his eyes. He also held a small bouquet of flowers, which he offered to her with a smile. "For you, belle Willow."

She found herself blushing, and tried to cover by inhaling the scent, her eyes half closing in appreciation. Pale yellow roses, tiny bright yellow flowers along a stem, tiger lilies… "They're lovely. Thank you. I'll just put these in some water, and then we can... where exactly are we going anyhow?"

"Don' worry about that. Remy has everything planned out," He smiled at her, watching as she placed the flowers in a vase of water.

Willow could almost feel his gaze, it felt like a warm caress, almost tangible. She felt self conscious, not quite glancing at him as she paused to admire the look of the flowers in the pale amber vase. "They look… nobody's ever brought me flowers for a date before."

"Such a pity de men in your life have been fools then," He held out his arm to her, a small smile on his lips.

Willow looked at him, for a moment wondering if she could trust him, if he was hiding some dark and terrible truth about himself from her. While she had no doubt in his abilities to steal and offer up what he might choose, that gave her no ideas about any other sort of ethics that he might or might not have. Would she be going into danger with him? Finally, she rested her hand on his arm, smiling hesitantly at him. "Maybe things will improve."

His smile was… interesting. Almost as if there was more than simple pleasure or the desire to be charming in it. When he spoke, his voice was like warm velvet sliding over her skin. "I hope that things will change, belle Willow. How much do you trust Remy?"

For a moment, Willow felt herself teetering on the edge of the question. How should she answer that one? "Well, it depends on what are you mean. I trust that you are entirely capable in your chosen profession. I trust that you are entirely capable of finding a nice place to eat, or an enjoyable place to spend time. But if you mean… do I trust that this won't go badly in some way… I'd like to."

"Dat isn't the same as you trust me." There was definitely amusement in his voice as he led her towards a gleaming dark car that seemed to be created for speed.

"Remy, how much did you look around Sunnydale? Have you seen what goes on here? Have you watched the news? It isn't always safe to trust people. But… I'd like to find out if I can trust you." She looked at him, trying to read his mood by his body language, from his eyes.

He paused, and there was a nearly imperceptible shudder that ran through his body. "Good point. Considering this place, a chance to prove myself is pretty good."

"So, what are we having for dinner?" She smiled at him, hoping that for a little while, she could just... pretend that this was a normal date, that she had something almost normal in her life for once.

He leaned over, whispering into her ear with his accented voice. "Italian. Found this nice little place... A bit out of the way, but wonderful food. Nice view of the ocean too."

"Italian?" Willow smiled, feeling delighted at how things had gone so far. Flowers, a chance to dress up, and dinner with a handsome man... oh, this was definitely nice.

The evening was delightful. They talked about art, and music, from the classical to modern creations. While they didn't agree on quite everything, they did conclude that some opinions differed due to personal taste. It was wonderful, and the soft candle light that filled the restaurant made the evening feel romantic, almost dream like.

"Maybe we can do this again sometime, eh?" He rubbed his thumb over her fingers, his smile a wealth of temptation.

Willow smiled at him. "I'm not sure that would be wise... but I think I'd like that."

end Just Dinner, Right?


	3. How About Saturday?

author: Lucinda

third in 'A Small Favor' storyline

pairing: Willow/Remy

disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or from X-Men/Marvel Comics.

distribution: any lists that I send it to, otherwise please ask.

note: FfA # 1143. AU post season 4 BtVS, AU in general from X-Men. Tara was a demon & left after that was uncovered. Remy never joined the X-Men. :Words in colons: are over a telephone.

Willow sighed as she tried to read in her book. She needed to finish reading this play and have an outline of a paper about the social commentary contained in the plot, character descriptions, and the resulting fates of the characters. Of course, her task would be much easier if Buffy wasn't practicing so loudly, between the thwacks of the training staves and the loud playing of whatever music that was, she was very distracted.

Suddenly, the song ended, leaving the room in relative quiet.

"I said," Giles was frowning at Buffy, "that you need to make certain that you're including the beach in your patrol until the dark of the moon."

"What was the reason for that again, Giles?" Buffy's voice sounded apologetic, but there was a thoughtful glint in her eyes.

Giles sighed, and let the staff rest on the ground. "Those rumors that you mentioned, about the coming of the shining pearls? That is a term used to refer to a particular race of water demon, and if they're coming, we need to know. Ideally, we can stop them before they reach the town and start killing humans."

"I guess I can cover it tonight, but..." Buffy tilted her head, thinking. "Sunnydale's big enough that if I hit the beach every night, I won't have time to cover all of the rest of the town."

Willow closed her book, already knowing where Buffy was heading with this. Buffy would point out the size of the areas needing patrolled, the fact that 'she was only one person', which completely ignored the many times that she had them help her patrol, and then complain that her 'Slayer duty' was really hard. After a while of that, she'd try to give a reason why she should really get the weekend off to spend with Riley.

"Xander and I can go to the beach on Friday," Anya commented, walking into the room with a paper. "I brought a list of today's sales, so we know how much to restock. Anyhow, Xander and I can go to the beach, there's a few things I'd like to try."

Buffy blinked, and slowly asked, "You're volunteering to help with patrol?"

"No, I'm volunteering us to go have sex on the beach while the demons aren't arriving," Anya smirked at Buffy. "You can't trust every rumor that you hear, especially not one that causes the rivals of the people starting the rumor to pack up and run away without their goodies and loot."

"That brought up images that I could have done without," Giles muttered. "Regardless of the chance that the rumor may be false, I would still feel better if someone is keeping an eye out, in case the rumor is true."

"Okay, that covers Friday, now about Saturday..." Buffy paused, her gaze falling on Willow. "So, since someone doesn't have anything to do on Saturday, I think Willow should go to the beach and watch for them."

"Actually, I have a date," Willow commented, frowning at Buffy. She didn't like the way that her friend had just assumed that she'd have nothing to do.

"You... what? who?" Buffy stammered, gaping at Willow. "When did you even have time to meet someone, and after Tara, are you sure that it's a good idea?"

"A date. Generally involving the consumption of food and the enjoyment of activities... Sound familiar? Kind of like what you and Riley keep doing?" Willow retorted. "As for when I had time, I met him while I was doing a favor for Giles."

"I thought you were into girls now, or was that Tara working some sort of mind-control on you?" Buffy asked.

"During a..." Giles frowned, "during that favor? Willow, are you certain that this is a good idea?"

"Yep, during that favor," Willow smirked. Now Giles was having second thoughts about dumping the big responsibility of getting the mystical talisman, after she'd found and negotiated the hiring of a thief, after negotiating with said thief for the theft, and then about a week and a half more time. It seemed a bit late to worry now, though it was sort of nice that he was concerned.

"But... Willow, dating someone that you just met?" Buffy sputtered, "What were you thinking?"

"Oh, like nobody else has ever jumped into a relationship around here?" Willow glared at Buffy.

"Umm..." Buffy fidgeted, looking away. "I don't know what you could be talking about."

Anya shook her head. "Jump in if you want, the sex can be exhilarating that way. Just be sure to be prepared in case you need to jump back out."

Everyone blinked, staring at Anya.

"What? I know that I jumped into a relationship with Xander," turning, Anya looked at Willow and smirked. "Don't do anything that I wouldn't."

Willow looked at Buffy, and narrowed her eyes. "How long did you know Angel before you started dating? A few weeks before patrolling together? You met Tom and skipped out to go to a Frat party with him. Parker Abrams. How much did you really know about Riley?"

"That's different!" Buffy protested.

"Why?" Willow folded her arms, not quite glaring at her friend.

"Umm… Because I'm stronger, if they try something nasty, I've got a better chance of fighting them off." Buffy's words weren't entirely confident.

"Right. First, remember that I'm a witch. I can probably handle a guy getting a little grabbier than I want. Second, I'm not leaping into bed with him just because he's good looking and charming." Willow sighed, and leaned back in her seat.

"Considering the nature of the favor, are you certain that this is wise?" Giles asked softly, his eyes full of worry.

"No, I'm not certain this is wise. I don't know if he's really as nice as he seems, or if he's got some ulterior motive." Willow paused, remembering his smile, and the way that he'd looked so handsome and just a tiny bit nervous when they'd gone out to dinner last Friday. "But I think I've got just as much of a right to find out as Buffy does."

"A very good point," Giles admitted, and then wiped at his glasses, mumbling something that she couldn't quite hear about sweat.

Giles finally spoke again, once his glasses were firmly back in place. "I know that you have the same entitlement to take chances and risk mistakes that Buffy does. All I ask is that you try to be careful."

"Thanks, Giles," Willow smiled, picking up her book. "I'll just go now, and let her go back to training later. I really need to finish reading this play for class."

Willow hurried back to her house, wanting to make certain that she could escape before Anya started trying to ask too many questions about her date, Buffy fussing over the dangers, or the equally daunting idea of Buffy interrogating her about the date-plans.

After locking the door, Willow dropped the book on the table and picked up her phone. Dialing the number for Remy's hotel room, she held her breath, hoping that he'd be there.

:Hello? Someone want to talk to Remy: The words were softened by his accent.

"Hey, it's Willow." She paused, feeling herself smile. "Remember how you said that you'd like to go out again sometime?"

:Of course I remember. So you decided to give me another chance.: It sounded like he was smiling, and she could just picture the expression. :Did you have somet'ing in mind:

"Something Saturday," Willow commented, and then blushed. "I didn't have a whole lot planned out. It's just… there was a discussion, and someone said that I didn't have anything planned for the weekend, and I got mad because nobody'd even asked and said I had a date."

:Normally, de plans come after you get a date. But Remy would like to spend some time wit you on Saturday. How about I drop by your place later tonight an' we can figure out details:

"That would be good," Willow smiled as she curled up on the end of the couch. Maybe dating the thief that she'd hired to steal a talisman for Giles wasn't very wise, but it sounded like fun. When he looked at her, she felt beautiful, and she liked that feeling. "I'll be here."

As Remy said his farewell, Willow just hoped that this didn't turn out to be a big mistake.

End Small Favor 3: How About Saturday?


	4. Elements of Risk

author: Lucinda

rated t for teen

main characters: Willow, Remy

may contain mention of canon s4 pairings.

fourth in the 'Small Favor' storyline

disclaimer: Remy and the Guild belong to Marvel comics. Willow and all persons Sunnydale belong to Joss Whedon & his writers.

distribution: with previous 'Small Favor' stories.

notes: s4 - Giles asked Willow to ensure that a magical talisman was removed from the wrong hands. The side effects of that 'small favor' are unexpected...

sf4.sf4

"Stupid, impulsive mouth," Willow grumbled at herself, tossing yet another shoe out of the closet. "Just because Buffy's being irritating and wants to go do things with Riley is no excuse to open your mouth and leap into things. How do I even know if he really wants to know me or if he's just bored with Sunnydale? How do I know that I'm not his entertainment for his stay? Stupid, stupid thing to say, a terrible way to get back into dating..."

Something stirred in the doorway, and Willow, on edge and unhappy from her day at the Magic Box and then classes at college, spun around, one shoe raised and ready to hurl at the intruder.

"Peace," Remy raised his hands, grinning at her. "You did no' seem to hear the door, so I let myself in."

Her face went hot, and Willow lowered the shoe, hoping that he hadn't heard her muttered ranting. "Sorry. I've had a day, and there's no need to start throwing shoes at you because of it."

"Remy appreciate dat," he moved closer, holding one hand towards her. "A hand to your feet?"

Willow let Remy help her to her feet, and sighed. He was just... charming, and handsome. A dangerous combination. "So, we were going to figure out something for Saturday?"

"What sort of t'ings have you done before?" Remy's eyes gleamed at her, and there was a small smile on his lips. "Always good to know what sort of competition t'ere be."

"Oh yes, with my vast dating history," Willow snorted. "With Oz, we went to the Bronze, we spent time at the library with stacks of books, and we went for some long walks. With Tara..."

"Tara?" Remy blinked, murmuring, "Dat be a very femme name."

"And she was a very pretty girl," Willow smiled slightly, before remembering the way that Tara's eyes had gone cold and hard, the way she'd glared and said that 'of course she'd just been using Willow. The Slayer would never attack her best friend's girlfriend, after all...' or the way that she'd felt so weak and tired after practicing spells with Tara. "We had a nasty break up, but she was pretty. On the outside, at least."

Remy looked thoughtful, and shook his head after a few moments. "Maybe somet'ing quiet. Much better museums out of this town, we could go see one, find a nice little place for dinner?"

Willow nodded, not asking how many people Remy had dated, or what sort of things they'd done. She was certain that his list was much, much longer. "I like museums. I guess I'm just sort of a quiet sort of girl. Maybe even a bit nerdy."

"Nothing wrong with a femme having a good mind an' a pretty face," Remy leaned back on the couch, and looked at her. "Why do you stay in dis place? You could go anywhere."

"You said you'd taken a look around Sunnydale, that you'd noticed some of the things here," Willow began, trying to pick the right words to explain. "How could I just walk away from all of that, knowing that because I left, more people would die? People would have their lives broken by someone not coming home, or vanishing into the darkness. Or worse, the sort of things that happen if someone does come home after vanishing into the night…"

Remy winced, "Dat is a very ugly point."

"How could I just walk away?" Willow sighed, feeling her shoulders slump. "This town has brought me so much pain, how could I just turn away and let others suffer the same, or worse and do nothing?"

One hand caught Willow's, and Remy rubbed her fingers, "Willow, I can tell dat you wouldn't jus' walk away from everyt'ing. But Sunnydale not be the only place t'ings get nasty an' strange. Not the only place wit vampires an' monsters. You could still help against such t'ings in any other place you go. N'York. Los Angeles. Houston. N'Awlins. Anywhere. You could make a life for yourself, find a place dat feels like home, find someone to make you happy, an' still help."

Willow blinked, considering his words. How had she never thought of things that way before? She knew that there were demons and vampires elsewhere. Giles and Ethan had started messing around with summoning when they were young and foolish, over in England. Kendra had fought somewhere in the Caribbean, she'd never actually found out where. Faith had Slain her way across the South on her way to Sunnydale. Angel had been turned in Ireland. Of course demons and vampires were in other places. Of course someone could, should fight them elsewhere, or work with the ones who did.

Why couldn't she go elsewhere? She could still get into almost any college that she wanted. Money wouldn't be an issue, not with her college fund, the trust left to her by Great Aunt Iris, some minor programs that she'd sold, and her ability to make and sell potions and aromatic blends. And the more mundane grants, scholarships and student loans, of course. Almost anywhere would feel more like a home than her parents' house. And Oz and Tara weren't reason enough to give up on love.

Looking at Remy, Willow managed a smile, "I'd never thought of it like that. I should have, but for whatever reason, I hadn't."

"Been told for years dat Remy don' go about everyt'ing the normal way," he smiled at her. "Always a pleasure to help out such a belle femme."

Looking at his smile, feeling his hand over her own, Willow wondered if Remy just might have a few suggestions on where she could start over, start a nicer, happier life and a suggestion on who she might share that life with. She wondered how many ulterior motives might be involved in such a suggestion if he made one. She didn't ask and wasn't certain that she'd like the answers if she did. "I suppose thinking outside the box would be a lot of help in your line of work."

"Sometimes a great deal of help," Remy admitted, smiling. "Now dat you started to think Sunnydale don' need to be home for the rest of your life, maybe you let Remy help you have a little fun, hmmm? Maybe you get to thinking life should be enjoyed now an' then? You can have fun without abandoning your responsibilities."

"Because you have plenty of fun and still handle all the responsibilities that you have towards your Guild?" Willow took a step closer, looking at his eyes. "Because knowing how serious things can be doesn't mean you can't seize the moment?"

"Very much so," Remy leaned closer, his body touching hers. "Even wit magic potions giving more time, you need to enjoy life. Otherwise, why bother?"

"Why live your life if you aren't living it and enjoying?" Willow mused, aware of Remy and all that he was offering, even if he hadn't used words. "You raise a very interesting point, Remy."

"Maybe I bring you around to my way of thinking?" his words were barely loud enough to hear, and then he kissed her.

Willow felt herself melt against him. This couldn't be wise, and she doubted this was anything like careful, but Remy and everything that he offered was very tempting. Maybe too tempting. Her arms wrapped around him, and Willow came to a decision. She'd tried to be careful, and to take things slowly, and it had gotten her pain, years of being ignored, one lover who had cheated on her, and one who had only been using her despite that caution.

Without risk, there would be no gain, and she would take that risk. Even though it was a big one. "You just might manage that, Remy."

His eyes glowed like coals, and he kissed her again.

Willow just hoped that she wouldn't regret this.

End Small Favor 4: Elements of Risk


	5. the Finer Things

Willow hadn't realized just what she was getting herself into when she'd asked Remy to do something with her on Saturday. From her vague thoughts of dinner somewhere so that Buffy couldn't drag her into Slayer duties because of having nothing to do and no one to spend time with, things had quickly spiraled. Maybe she shouldn't have admitted that she'd already committed herself to 'having plans', effectively leaving her at his mercy.

She shook her head, thinking that things sounded so ominous when she put it like that. He hadn't mentioned anything awful, or illegal, or even embarrassing. Instead, he'd bribed her out of Sunnydale with the lure of a traveling display of medieval Russian art, currently on display in San Francisco. He'd whispered into her ear, taking about ornate inlaid patterns, the fragile ornate garments of the Russian aristocracy, heavy jewelry, and the historical notes and records. He'd teased her by suggesting that she'd look marvelous wrapped in a Russian fur.

While she'd blushed and stammered at the image, he'd winked at her, and commented "if someone be there with Remy, Remy not as likely to borrow anyt'ing from the exhibit either. Maybe you should go jus' to make sure Remy behave?"

She'd swatted at his arm, unsurprised when he'd simply avoided her hand. "Shame on you. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me that Mistress Willow needs to punish you for being a bad boy."

One eyebrow had risen, and his gleaming eyes had gone wide, "Mistress Willow? Is dere something you should tell Remy before t'ings get serious?"

Blushing, Willow had looked down, not quite away from him, "It's a long, embarrassing story. Boyfriends, impalement, angry girlfriends, and evil demons… also the reason why Wishes can be very bad and there may have been evil alternate selves. You really don't want to hear about it."

"Maybe Remy does want to hear dat," He'd grinned, catching her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Have you ever heard theories about alternate worlds, how things could be different if something had gone another way? Like alternate historical fiction, or the time traveler's paradox?" Willow looked back up, unsure how much to share or how he'd take any of it if she did tell him that story.

"In general terms, an' Remy read a few stories," he nodded. "Somet'ing like how life unfolded if Columbus an' his boats sank, or if Washington lost."

"Someone made a wish, and then something weird and Hellmouthy happened and someone from that alternate world ended up here… " Willow sighed.

"Remy guess it be someone you knew?" his words were soft, and he still hadn't let go of her hand.

"She was that world's Willow Rosenberg. Only, she'd been turned into a vampire, and wore this really binding leather outfit…" Willow shook her head. "We were so glad to get rid of her. She was just… freaky."

"Dat certainly be strong evidence of somet'ing strange going on. You sure it was an alternate world an' not a clone or long lost sister?" Remy smiled at her, still holding her hand. "An' just how do you know her outfit be binding?"

All Willow could do was blush about the outfit, and she whispered, "No she was definitely an alternate me. We remembered the same childhood, the same teachers, the same everything until we were fifteen. Then she became a vampire, and… well, I met the Slayer."

"Met her an' started helping her fight t'ings," Remy finished. "Dat be how you found out about potions an' talismans for magic rituals, an' vampires."

Willow nodded, and then sighed, "Can we let that go for the rest of the afternoon? Just… go see the Russian art, remind you a few times not to steal any of it, and maybe find something nice for dinner that isn't around in Sunnydale?"

He'd laughed, and kissed her knuckles, murmuring "as de lady commands."

The museum exhibit had been wonderful. There had been ornamented helmets and breastplates, clasps for cloaks that had figures and animals and heraldic insignias, elaborate and probably unwieldy ceremonial swords and beautifully illuminated manuscripts. She could only piece out a few of the Russian words, but she didn't need to understand them to appreciate the work involved or the resulting beauty. There were also quite a few religious pieces, elaborate crosses, candle stands with saints and doves, ornately carved boxes, pieces of stone carved with elaborate depictions of miracles and saints. She wasn't certain, but a few of them even looked like the armed warrior-saints were fighting vampires, and she was certain that she recognized a couple types of demons that Buffy had fought.

Visiting with Remy was nice, they could whisper comments back and forth, and he didn't once try to hurry her along because of the art being boring, or something scheduled later that was 'more important' like her parents used to do when she was little. Of course, they hadn't taken her on a family outing, even one rushed to make certain they could get ready for a conference , for several years.

They'd followed that up with dinner at a charming little Turkish restaurant, which Willow was amused to note carried a good selection of kosher foods. Not that she'd worried too much about keeping kosher for the past few years, but it was long-ingrained habit to look. She picked a mostly kosher dinner, but with a flicker of guilty defiance, she chose a side dish that was not kosher, and she savored every bite.

"You don' keep the strict kosher no more? Remy fairly certain Rosenberg be a Jewish name," the casual question teased at Willow as they walked back to his car, pleasantly stuffed from a dinner that hadn't left either of them with room for desert.

"Not for a few years," Willow shook her head as she remembered the Bezoar and the semi-possession that had been the real start of her lapse. There had been quite a few other things, such as crosses working against so many vampires, and taking up magic. Sometimes it was hard to remember the long ago time a few years back when she'd been a devoted and faithful Jewish girl, even attempting to convince Xander and Jesse of the appeal of kosher snacks. "Things.... happened, and it's more force of habit than anything else now."

"Habit can be pretty powerful," Remy nodded.

"Is that why you took that guy with the red shirt's wallet?" Willow teased.

Shrugging, Remy countered "De man wearing a red shirt. Dat's practically asking for trouble. Don' you remember the show? Four people go down to th' planet. Kirk, McCoy, Spock and de guy in the red shirt. Guess who don' come back? Red flag in front of bulls. Balances in the red when you mess up. It's a bad idea all around."

"I hadn't taken you for a Star Trek fan," Willow looped her arm through Remy's, and grinned. "I would have figured you were out charming people off to lunch."

"Lunch?" Remy arched an eyebrow at her even as he rifled through the wallet. "Plastic, plastic, parking tickets, photo of a blonde woman, parking ticket, receipt from a shoe store... Dat was pointless."

"Lunch, on account of you probably had a curfew when you were younger. What are you going to do with the wallet now?"

Remy shrugged before sliding the wallet into a post office drop box. "Not'ing in it worth keeping, it can go back to him."

Fighting giggles, Willow wagged a finger at him, "Shame on you. Shame, shame... You can get in trouble for stealing wallets, and isn't that kind of petty? I mean, I've heard of petty theft, but that's just sad."

"Mmmm, suppose it was rather unimpressive," Remy stopped, and turned to face her. "Maybe I steal kisses instead?"

Willow was quite content with that for the next however long they kissed. His lips chased away her logical thoughts, leaving her body tingling, her heart racing, and things delightfully relaxed. "Much better than wallets full of parking tickets."

"Bon," Remy whispered. "Remy still trying to convince you to run away from Sunnydale. Could go somewhere nice, pretty scenery, people who appreciate what you can do... Somewhere you could take time to appreciate life an' all the t'ings it can offer."

"Very tempting," Willow sighed. She just wasn't sure how much of that temptation was the idea of following Remy and how much was the picture of life that he painted.

The other thing she wasn't certain about was how long she would be able to resist his persuasions. If he kept that up, especially with those wicked and toe-curling kisses, she would certainly run away with him. In the back of her mind, next to her fears that she would never stop being the little nerd ignored by the cool kids, next to the old fears that nobody would really want to date her, next to her occasional thoughts that Buffy did stupid things for a Slayer, like dating vampires and trusting soldiers, she wondered if it would be such a bad thing to run away with Remy LeBeau.

End Small Favor 5: the Finer Things


	6. Not Trained for This

It had started innocently. She'd met Buffy at the Espresso Pump for a mocha, and had found herself walking with Buffy on patrol, talking about the recent lectures in Psychology and the optional lecture on Wednesday that was supposed to discuss observer bias in behavioral research. The individual little vampires that had attacked hadn't been problems, not even the pair that had attacked near the old Spanish cemetery, one of which Willow had managed to stake while Buffy was fighting the taller vampire.

There had been a suspicious light from one of the old mausoleums inside the cemetery. Buffy, being the charge in Slayer that she was, had towed Willow into the cemetery with her, insisting "We have to see what's going on. It can't be a gravedigger or groundskeeper, not after dark in Sunnydale!"

Despite Willow's sense of caution insisting that this was a Bad Idea, she found herself dragged inwards by her friend, one hand clutching at her wrist hard enough that Willow wondered if there would be a bruise. Buffy was right though, in Sunnydale, no groundkeeper or gravedigger worked much past dark, not if they liked living and happened to be human. Which left her wondering if they would find a drained body, or some local baddies up to no good. Either one was possible… or maybe it was even some teens, thinking that this would be a good place to make out or try some smuggled beer?

It turned out to be a pack of demons. Four of them, with scales and spines along their back that they could pull out and throw like knives. Demons digging at the crypt in the mausoleum. They'd successfully pried away the cover stone, but hadn't yet opened the casket. Willow remembered looking up a demon like that last year, and while she couldn't remember too much, they weren't carrion eaters, so they were looking for something, not for dinner. Though she found herself trying really hard to remember if fresh human was on their menu…

There had been fighting, as Buffy had burst in on the grave robbery in progress, stake in one hand and quips ready. Unlike vampires, the demons didn't fall into dust when killed, and they fought back quite forcefully. As Willow picked herself back up from the stone floor, she reflected that they didn't have quite the same shoving power as a vampire, though she was certain that would leave a bruise if she survived the night. Drawing on her magic and her scrabbling terror, she managed to deflect five of those spines thrown her way, even managing to send three of them at the demons with enough force and luck to injure them. One even seemed to be a serious wound, resulting in a screech that could serve as a siren and large amounts or reddish orange blood.

After what seemed like a very long and terrifying fight, the demons were all down and still, presumably dead, though Willow wasn't certain she trusted that. Her shoulder ached, as did her right knee and wrist, and she could feel something wet on her left cheek and trickling down the side of her neck. She found herself hoping that it was demon blood, but she couldn't be certain.

Buffy popped the lid of the casket, releasing a foul stench. While they both coughed and tried to wave the smell away, Buffy reached inside and pulled out something shiny. Closer inspection showed it to be a small box, about three inches by four inches and two inches deep, with geometric shapes over the sides and inlaid on the top with colored stones. Willow found herself identifying them as turquoise and malachite, amber and mother of pearl. The tiny box hummed with magic.

"Buffy, its magic. I don't know what it's supposed to do, but that box is definitely magic," Willow pointed at it, and then looked at the demons. "Considering that they were looking for it, do you want to call Giles? I sort of left my cell back in the dorm room charging."

Willow leaned against the mausoleum wall as Buffy called Giles. Now that the adrenalin was fading, she could feel the bruises and the aches. She shouldn't be patrolling like this, she wasn't trained for it. She didn't know how to fight, and there were too many hard things to get thrown into, too many sharp things coming at her vulnerable body.

"Okay then," Buffy flipped her cell phone closed. "I talked to Giles, he said you can take care of it. It might need destroyed, or maybe just shut away somewhere secure, you can figure it out."

With a bright smile, Buffy tossed the magic box to Willow.

Right before she sauntered off, calling "I'll finish up patrol. You take care of that, and let me know if you decide to go to that guest speaker on Wednesday."

"I don't believe this… I just…" Willow sighed, and shook her head. "I hate Sunnydale."

As she left the cemetery wondering what on earth gave Buffy the idea that she would be safe walking back to the dorms or her parents' house with the magical object that the demons had been looking for by herself, she decided that her parents' house was closer than the dorms. As an additional temptation, at her parents' house, she wouldn't have to explain the bruises or the hopefully demon blood on her cheek. She didn't expect any competition for the shower either.

A light was on in the Rosenberg house.

Resisting the urge to ask what could possibly happen next, Willow opened the door, reaching with her senses to figure out who or what was in her home. The only vampire with an invitation was Angel, unless that worked across dimensions and her vampire double was back, but that would be pretty unlikely, and why would a vampire need a light on anyhow? She could feel one presence, and it didn't feel hostile. Probably not something lurking to attack her then…

Hoping this wouldn't be a mistake, Willow called, "Who's there?"

Something rattled to the floor in the bathroom, followed by curses in French, English, and a few words that she didn't recognize. The swearing voice sounded familiar, though Willow was certain she hadn't heard him using words like those...

"Remy? What are you doing in here?" Willow walked towards the bathroom, hoping that she was right in her identification. For that matter, she hoped that Remy was mostly trustworthy.

"Remy got a couple injuries, an' was hoping dere was a first aid kit in here," he answered. "Help?"

Willow reached the doorway, blinking at Remy. He had a bruise forming around his left eye, as well as some scrapes near the eyebrow and over his cheekbone. There were several deep scratches or shallow cuts along his left arm, and his shirt was torn at the shoulder. "How did you manage that? And the kit's under the sink, let me help you with that…"

"Maybe after you help me, I should help you? Somethin's on your cheek, and you got blood on your shoulder," Remy gestured at her face and then at her shoulder, which was now throbbing.

"Right, that's a good idea," Willow agreed. When Remy handed her a damp washrag, she wiped at her cheek, feeling a stinging burn that suggested at least part of it was her own blood. She hoped that there wouldn't be any problems resulting from getting demon blood or grave must into the scrape. "There were some demons, and… I was in their way. There were also some stone walls and some sharp… knives is close, I suppose."

"Home security system including some sort of robot shaped like a dog," Remy countered. "Ended up slammed against the sidewalk on the other side of de fence, and the sunglasses broke."

"A robot dog? This would be a good time to be up to date on your tetanus shots…" Willow decided that now wasn't the time to ask why a robot dog was after him, or whose security system he was encountering. "I guess this goes along with being a thief?"

Remy nodded, holding his arm still as Willow smeared Neosporin along the cuts. She dabbed it over the marks on his face as well, murmuring "Those can probably go without bandages, but your arm should have some, at least for a couple days."

"T'ing is, dere was no electronic trip, an' no radio signal to call a robot dog," Remy muttered. "You're turn, an' Remy hope you don' end up wit' a scar on your pretty face."

"I wonder if it was magic that called the robot? Combining magic and technology into one system would make things tougher to break or elude. Technology wouldn't be able to block a magical summons, and you can't use a spell to dispel or banish a robot. Or a spirit in a robot body, that's a pretty nasty combination," Willow shivered as she remembered Moloch, though a robot dog would be something far weaker and less plotting to take over the world-ish.

"Magic…" Remy shook his head as he gently put Neosporin over the scrape on her cheek. "Remy don' know much about magic. We use some magic potions, an' we've stolen some magic items, but… most of de Guild o' Thieves don' use magic. Sounds like just knowin' how o spot it would be a big help."

"Some things aren't that hard to learn, and others take a lot of practice, and are still much easier if you've got the talent," Willow sighed. "I think the shirt's done for, give me a moment to get something clean and then I'd like it if you could help me with my shoulder?"

"Of course, Remy jus' wait right here. Maybe while Remy take care of your shoulder, you explain how to look for magic, or where Remy could find someone to teach a nifty trick like dat?"

"Charmer," Willow muttered. She retreated to her room, wincing as she peeled the shirt off and dropped it on the floor. It might come clean, but there was a huge rip near the shoulder, edged with blood. She found a baggy nightgown, and returned to the bathroom, the sleeve rolled up and tugged away.

"This not be too bad, so long as it don' get infected. Maybe you need to learn a bit more about how to not get hurt if you going to be getting into fights," Remy murmured as she applied the Neosporin and topped it with a band-aid. "So where would Remy go to learn about magic?"

"That depends on how much you want to know," Willow sighed. "I know some, but not enough. I keep running into things I can't do, or can't undo, and there's so much that I still need to learn, and most of the people in Sunnydale aren't the sort that you really want to have teaching you. They might want to eat you later."

"An' learning by trial an' error be very dangerous wit' most t'ings; probably even more so wit' magic," Remy murmured. "How about you finding someone to teach you to fight, or at least dodge?"

"Then I run into problems of time, money and the Sunnydale death rate," Willow sighed. Yet again, she wondered why Giles had never taught her and Xander how to fight. They'd been helping Buffy for several years, and he'd never even tried to teach them how to fight, or how to dodge. She'd picked up more from watching Indian television on the satellite than she had from Giles deliberately teaching her. And yet… they kept getting sent to 'help with patrols' or to cover sections of town where Buffy didn't go. Xander had picked up some knowledge after Halloween, but her? She'd been a ghost, and had spent the next month running into walls that she could no longer walk through. The only other change was that she could now tell with certainty where someone had died, a very disturbing and depressing ability to have in Sunnydale.

"Remy knows a couple people near N'Awlins, maybe they could teach you some t'ings. Not about potions, but…" Remy shrugged. "Tante Mattie knows t'ings. Remy can probably convince her to teach you."

"Very tempting," Willow admitted. "Maybe if you stick around while I'm learning some things from Tante Mattie I can teach you enough that you don't get caught in magical traps."

"You sound like you really thinking about Remy's offer this time, not jus' saying it would be nice," He gave a smile, eyes twinkling.

Willow blinked, and considered her reactions, as well as the various aches and that feeling that had gone through her when Buffy had relayed that 'Giles said you can handle it.' She kept being asked to do things without the proper training for them, and yet when she asked for help learning to control her magic or to fight, she was told not to worry about it, Buffy would fight, there were books on magic, she didn't need to worry about that... "I am thinking about it. But that's a big decision, and not one that should be made right away after getting beat up by a groups of demons."

With a nod, Remy agreed, "It is a big decision. Course, Remy going to keep trying to lure you away to N'Awlins, an' the city not going away. Remy can take all the time he needs to convince you."

Willow giggled, and waved him towards the guest room. "You might as well stay here tonight. There's a guest room through there, things might be a bit dusty, but it should be fine."

She wasn't sure if leaving for New Orleans with Remy would still sound like such a great idea in the morning. She wasn't even sure anymore if it would be a bad thing if it did sound good. How much did she really have to stay in Sunnydale for, anyhow?

End Small Favor 6: Not Trained for This.


	7. Planning Ahead

Author: Lucinda

Rated t for teen

seventh in the 'Small Favor' series

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, though I may not be able to give all the legal who's that do own them. The Sunnydale folks from the screen belong to Joss & co. Remy belongs to Stan Lee & Marvel Comics.

Distribution: by permission. If you have permission for the first six, then you may also have this one.

Notes: AU post season 4 BtVS, AU in general from X-Men. Tara was a demon & left after that was uncovered. Remy never joined the X-Men.

Part of Willow wanted to dismiss last night as a horrible dream. To convince herself that Buffy hadn't dragged her into a cemetery, that she hadn't been involved in a fight with six demons who could pull sharp blades from their backs and throw them at people. That those demons hadn't been intent on seizing a small jeweled box that had been hidden in the coffin. That Buffy hadn't tossed the box to her with an indifferent "Giles said you could handle it." That she hadn't been left to find her own way home or to the dorm injured and carrying the magical box.

She hadn't minded finding Remy in her parents' house that much. Hadn't minded having someone willing to help her tend her wounds.

It only took her a few minutes to gather some clean clothing, identify that Buffy had left a bruise where she'd dragged her along into the cemetery, and collect a towel before shutting herself in the bathroom for a nice, soothing shower.

When she stepped out, still rubbing at her hair with the towel, dressed except for her bare feet due to the vague memory that Remy had stayed, there was something strange. Something that hadn't happened in this house for years. She could smell someone else cooking breakfast.

"Remy?" Willow walked towards the kitchen, trying to make sense of what was going on and wishing for some coffee. "Remy, is that you?"

"Anyone else likely to be moving aroun' in here?" Remy's voice replied. He then added the most wonderful words, "Remy made coffee if you want some."

Willow moved into the kitchen, tossing the towel into an empty corner. "Breakfast and coffee? You are a wonder, Remy."

She didn't say anything else until she had a mug of coffee, strong and almost too hot, with a half spoon of sugar to sweeten it. "There haven't been too many breakfasts cooked in here. I think maybe once or twice my senior year... and when Aunt Naomi visited the summer after Sophomore year, she cooked almost every day."

"You skip many breakfasts?" Remy slid a plate towards her, holding eggs and some sort of sweet smelling pastry.

"Behold the wonders of cereal and glasses of juice. I normally wasn't awake enough in the mornings for anything more complicated," Willow admitted.

"Normally, parents cook for their children," Remy glanced at her, placing another of the little pastries on his own plate.

"My parents travel," Willow sipped at her coffee. "They've been going to seminars and conferences since I was little, I used to stay over with Xander or Jesse. When I was thirteen, they decided that I was old enough to stay home by myself. They normally wouldn't be gone more than a few days, but they'd go to a lot of things. By the time I started high school they were away as often as they were here."

"Have you even seen them this year?" Remy's voice was quiet.

Willow nibbled at a pastry as she considered his question. "I think we talked some at Passover. They missed graduation, which was probably safer for them. And..." Willow sighed and tried to pretend that it didn't hurt, that she wasn't upset by the fact that she hadn't actually seen her parents in person for several months. "yeah. Passover."

"Passover is close to Easter, no?" Remy refilled her coffee mug, and scooped some more eggs onto her plate. "You need to eat some more. Running from scary demons takes a lot of energy."

Willow gave a small sigh, unable to argue with his statement. Besides that, Remy's eggs were delicious. "The Jewish holidays move a little more than the Christian ones, but Passover is fairly close to Easter. How about you, do you see your family more often than I see mine?"

"Oui. Remy grow up in de Guild, Papa does a lot of the paperwork an' organization. Got a brother named Henri, an' I think he's going to find himself married fairly soon now. Tante Mattie's tried to keep Remy out of trouble, but some t'ings are too much for one woman to manage," Remy's smile spoke volumes about the affection and trust in his family.

"So ending up mauled by a robot dog that may or may not have been demon possessed isn't that unusual for you," Willow grinned at him, and took another bite of the food.

Remy shrugged, attempting to look innocent and failing utterly.

"If someone were to move out to New Orleans, or someplace close to the city, would you be able to help them find a martial arts instructor? And maybe someone to help with meditation?" Willow didn't quite look at Remy, letting her mind wander about the various ramifications of leaving Sunnydale, leaving everything familiar. Leaving swarms of demons and vampires. Leaving the Hellmouth. She was part curious, part intrigued, and part terrified at the idea, and certainly not willing to make any firm plans. Not yet. But there was no harm in asking a few questions, gathering a bit of information...

"Most people would start wit' a phone book for instruction, or looking online," Remy paused to sip at his coffee. "Very least, if you come back home, we can make sure you find someone capable, someone who won' be more trouble than they're worth. Meditation... easy to find someone who help you figure out meditation, a lot harder if you want to learn magic. More magic, Remy should say. Can't make promises about magic lessons."

"Would you... maybe be able to let me know if someone who could offer magic lessons was trouble? If I were to move, that is," Willow asked. She understood that he wasn't able to promise what other people might do, or who they might teach, and didn't feel that she had any right to ask him to find her a teacher. Especially without a promise of going.

"We could do that," Remy nodded, smiling at her.

For a while, the kitchen was quiet, with only the soft noises of two people enjoying breakfast. Willow savored the peaceful company, the feeling of not being alone and having someone who could at least appear to care. It was more than her parents had done in a long time.

"So, you don' see your family much, maybe you come to N'Awlins during winter break? Remy could show you around, give you a chance to look at somewhere else, have a bit of fun before you make any final decisions..." He looked over the rim of the mug, his expression hopeful and tempting. "Safer than this town."

"That sounds nice," Willow whispered.

As Remy put the dishes in the sink, he murmured, "Remy needs to take the potion home, but I can be back in town the week after T'anksgiving. Maybe we can work out details for where to show you during winter break?"

"Sure," Willow smiled.

This year would be different. No moping at home because her friends were off with their families for the holidays. No awkward time with her parents repeating traditions that her parents didn't enjoy. No wandering about the dorm listening to Buffy complain about Angel leaving and Riley being Riley and those soldiers running around. She almost couldn't wait. New Orleans sounded wonderful… especially with Remy to show her around.

End Small Favor 7: Planning Ahead.


	8. Evaluating

Author: Lucinda

eighth in the "Small Favor" series

Rated t for teen

Disclaimer: Remy belongs to Marvel Comics, Willow and anyone else from Sunnydale that you recognize belong to Joss Whedon & co.

Distribution: Mental Wanderings, Luba, Twisting, PEJA, NHA, WLS, Bite Me - anyone else ask. If you have permission for an earlier "Small Favor" then you still have permission.

Notes: set in a slightly altered s4 BtVS, Au for Marvel in that Remy never joined the X-Men.

Remy had left early Thursday on a flight back to New Orleans. He had her telephone numbers –both the Rosenberg home and her personal cell phone – so that he could call her. She'd given him one of her email addresses so that he had another way to contact her. He'd promised to come back around Thanksgiving.

It shouldn't have made that much of a difference that Remy had left Sunnydale. They'd had a few dates, enjoyed a couple meals together, and some incredible kisses. They hadn't done anything more intimate than kissing… well, kissing and doctoring each other's wounds in the medical sense of the word doctor and the physical sense of the word wounds.

While most of her injuries were healing without trouble, the scrapes on her cheek that had gotten demon blood in them had picked up what was either a low grade infection or an allergic reaction, swelling and itching horribly. Willow kept treating them with antiseptic ointment, taking antibiotics, and when she cleaned them, it was with holy water. She just hoped that there wouldn't be any strange aspect of the demon messes to deal with, unlike Buffy's run in with the telepathic demons their senior year.

Xander had been acting weird a few days ago, all confident and assertive. Buffy had thought there was some sort of demon possession or impersonation. Giles had oh dear'ed and polished his glasses. After lots of research, it had turned out to be the result of some Toth demon with a magic wand splitting Xander into Confident Xander and Uncertain Xander. Anya had been drooling about the possibilities of two Xanders… which had been very disturbing to everyone. The two Xanders situation had resolved with nobody killed or injured, no sexcapades in front of the rest of them, and Xander having signed for a nice apartment.

Willow still had no idea how to deal with that little gold box that the demons had pulled out of the crypt. She had tried to find it when they were looking up references to the magic wand that the Toth demon had used on Xander – and Willow was still trying to get a straight answer from Giles about whether it was a member of the toth species of demon or if it was a demon named Toth, and if there was any connection to the ancient Egyptian deity named Toth. She'd learned that many magical objects were magically reinforced, to prevent them from being broken or melted or tarnished beyond usefulness. Sometimes, physically destroying the magical object would be enough to break its power, and sometimes physically destroying an object without the proper magical precautions would result in a large explosion, the size determined by the power in the object. That was enough to convince Willow not to start trying to break the box. Not that she liked the idea of destroying an unknown magical device anyhow – who knew what it was or what it could do? It wouldn't be right to destroy something that was like a magical textbook, or a collection of prophecies, or a charm to help little offspring sleep peacefully. If it was some sort of weapon or trigger for demonic invasion or apocalypse, then attempting to destroy it would either have no effect or make a very big explosion, and Willow was absolutely certain that she wasn't explosion proof.

Not that she'd said anything to anybody about still having the box. The only person who might know was Remy, who'd left to go back to New Orleans. As terrible as it sounded, considering how nice he'd been to her, she had checked to make sure that the box was still there after he'd left. He was charming, and handsome, but he was a thief.

Sunnydale was just… She had classes, she helped research demons that Buffy saw on patrol, and she still hadn't seen her parents. Remy was the only person she'd dated since the Tara fiasco, and she did feel a bit lonely. It didn't help that Xander and Anya were together, with Anya more than willing to talk about more things than she ever wanted to hear about Xander doing with someone else, though there was a time when she would have maimed to be the one he was doing those things with. Buffy had Riley, probably in plenty of ways and various locations. Giles even had that on and off again thing with Olivia. The only other people that didn't have somebody were Amy, who was still a rat, and Buffy's mom, and Willow wasn't willing to swear that Joyce had no prospects. She was lonely and trying not to mope about that fact, with limited success. Those couple dates with Remy seemed to only make her more aware of how much she missed being part of a couple.

She'd been drafted to do a 'quick patrol' near the beach and nearly been eaten by a trio of vampires, one of which she was almost certain had been the starting quarterback her sophomore year of high school. She'd conjured some fire, and it had burned one of them to ashes and caused the other two – the maybe-quarterback and someone who had to have been a cheerleader to run away. She'd killed the lamprey-faced demon that had attacked her, though it had left her with some bruises and four nasty scratches maybe cuts along her forearm from where she'd blocked it from trying to claw her throat out. That had been quite enough for Willow, and she'd returned to the dorm, not willing to get killed on her own doing Buffy's patrol. It might have gone better if she'd had back up to help slay the vampires. Xander had Anya, though she wasn't certain if they were patrolling or having sex outside, and that sounded terribly risky, not only could someone see you, but what about demons or vampires interrupting? Buffy had Riley to patrol with her. If the Slayer wasn't patrolling alone, why on earth should she? For that matter, why was she the only one who objected to this pan?

Leaving Sunnydale was sounding better and better.

In New Orleans, Remy LeBeau stood before the Elders of the Thieves Guild. He held up the amber bottle, with the decorative cording of bronze beads and chips of tiger eye, containing the potion of Al'Hamir. "Remy bargained wit' a witch in California to retrieve a small object in exchange for this potion. She promised dat she could make de potion of Al'Hamir, and presented me wit' dis bottle."

"How very pretty," mused Ophelia. "Rather like the sort of thing that gets a nice little display in the corner of a luxurious home."

"While a pretty package is nice, we need to make certain that the contents are as promised," Pierre opened the flask, contemplating the fragrance a moment before smiling. "It does smell like the potion of Al'Hamir."

He passed it to someone else, who disappeared to the back rooms to verify the contents. Looking back at Remy, Pierre made one more observation, "If it does turn out to be the potion of Al'Hamir, the witch might be worth cultivating."

Remy nodded, thinking to himself that Willow was certainly worth cultivating, and not only for her potion making abilities. She had a refreshing approach to life, and the fact that she was an attractive redhead didn't hurt any. "Remy be visiting de area again late November. Maybe she have another small job or two needing a Guild touch, hmmm?"

"A good idea, Remy," his father's smile had more than simply approval for a job well done. Then again, his father knew him too well.

There were all sorts of possibilities. Including the possibility that he might get a pretty girlfriend out of the matter. He'd convinced her to visit New Orleans over winter break. All he had to do was convince her to stay.

End Small Favor 8: Evaluating.


	9. Achieving Goals

Author: Lucinda

ninth in "Small Favor" series

Rated t for teen, may contain violence, strong language, and moderate sexuality

main characters are Willow Rosenberg & Remy LeBeau

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, though I may not be able to give all the legal who's that do own them.

Distribution: by permission.

Notes: Au s4 BtVS - Tara was evil & she and Willow split up, AU for X-Men in that Remy was never banished from New Orleans and never joined the X-Men.

sf9..sf9..sf9..sf9..

Willow was starting to feel exceedingly frustrated with life in Sunnydale. There were her classes, each with an abundance of homework. There was her non-existent love-life, combined with the far-too-existent love-lives of Buffy and Xander. She was sick of the constant vampires. And that dratted shiny box was still sitting in her room at the Rosenberg house.

As if everything else wasn't quite enough, she felt lonely. Instead of just hanging out at the Bronze like the gang had done in the past, they now tended to pair off, dancing or lingering in dark corners, though thankfully Buffy and Riley only kissed and groped a bit at the Bronze. She didn't want to know how far Xander and Anya went. There were still group research sessions, but... that was research, not fun time with her friends.

This had led her to her current project. Buffy wouldn't have been interested, Xander would have joked about it, she didn't ever want to try tricky spells with Anya again after they'd accidentally brought forth her vampire double, and Riley got all weird when magic was brought up. Which was why Willow sat alone in her dorm room with a couple books and a small cage that contained Amy the rat.

"If this works, you won't be a rat anymore, Amy. While I'm not the one who turned you into a rat, you don't seem to be in any hurry to be human again," Willow looked at Amy, who twitched her whiskers in response.

After rereading some of her notes, Willow looked again at Amy and frowned, "Amy, if I do get you human again, it would probably be best if you weren't in the cage at the time. That could really hurt. So I'm going to take you out of the cage and have you sit over here, in the circle, okay?"

Amy squeaked, and almost leapt into Willow's hand. She curled herself into the middle of the circle and looked at Willow with bright, eager eyes.

Four hours and seventeen attempts later, Amy was asleep, Willow felt exhausted, and the room had picked up some very unusual smells that the Resident advisor probably wouldn't like. Amy was still a rat. Willow was still frustrated. "God, I just…"

Willow stopped in the middle of her snarl of frustration. Amy had called on the goddess Hecate to do this. She wasn't trying to undo the work of Amy, teenage mortal witch, she was trying to undo the work of a goddess. No wonder she had been failing over and over again. It was time to try something new. "Goddess Hecate, I thank you for protecting your follower Amy, and ask that you restore her to her human self. Please and thank you."

There was a feeling, as if the air had just shivered, and then a soft snore could be heard in the room. Amy was still curled up asleep in the circle, but now she was human. Human and naked.

"Wow…" Willow stared for a few moments, astonished and delighted that it had worked. It had really worked, Amy was human again… She lurched to her feet, unhappy to discover that she'd sat so long that both of her legs had fallen asleep. With clumsy hobbling steps, she made her way over to the bed and pulled the second blanket off of it. Not trusting her feet yet, she hobbled slowly back to Amy and draped it over the sleeping witch. "That should keep you warmer, and I'm not going to try to move you. You're too heavy for me to lift and I think I'm magicked out for one night. G'night, Amy."

Willow then changed into her nightgown and went to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as she'd pulled the covers up to her chin.

………………………………………….

Willow woke up when light flooded the dorm room. Her response was to squirm around pulling the covers over her head and utter a muffled "Ack!"

"What's on the floor, Willow? And what did you do in here, it smells like a lotion shop gone bad!" Buffy's voice rang in the room.

"Mrmph," Willow squinted, poking her head out from under the pillow. "Buffy, what time is it, and why are you only now getting back?"

"That's not important," Buffy insisted, fidgeting. "What's the what with the floor, and why is your blanket over… what is on the floor anyhow?"

"Amy. She's not a rat anymore, but she'd already fallen asleep by then, so I didn't try to move her. And she's naked under the blanket, she left her clothing behind when she changed, remember?" Willow spoke quickly, hoping that Buffy wasn't about to kick the unexpected lump.

"Naked no longer a rat Amy… right. Go back to sleep, Willow," Buffy shook her head, turning the light back off.

* * *

Morning brought a new challenge. While Willow had known that Amy had no clothing of her own, she hadn't considered the fact that neither Buffy or herself were of the right size for their clothing to fit Amy. To make things worse, Amy's mother, having been turned into a trophy several years ago, had officially vanished, and with Amy's own disappearance, the Madison household had been packed up and shipped away to parts unknown. Maybe parts of it had gone to Amy's father, who had moved away to San Diego.

They found a few of Willow's baggier shirts that would fit and a couple drawstring skirts that could adjust enough that Amy could wear them. With the promise of a trip later to buy some suitable clothing, they left the dorms to share the news with Giles and Xander. As they walked, with Amy giddy about being bipedal and having opposable thumbs again, Willow considered what could happen to their friend now. Maybe she could stay with Anya, or… Well, Giles might have a suggestion.

"Knock knock, Giles! We have a good surprise for everyone," Buffy called as she opened the door to Giles's apartment and walked right inside.

"Buffy, I do wish that you would knock and wait before you come inside. At this hour, some people are not always up and about, especially if there was a long night of research before… Good heavens, is that… Amy Madison, it is good to see you looking yourself again," Giles smiled at Amy.

"I figured out how to get her unrated last night," Willow beamed. "Except now we have the slight problem of where will she stay, and she'll need to go get clothes and things and…"

"Yes, we can take care of that. I do have the second room, though it's rather full of books at the moment. We shall arrange something, and I'm sure that Buffy will be more than happy to take Amy shopping for everything," Giles shook his head.

Within a matter of days, Amy was installed in Anya's apartment, with a small but stylish wardrobe and new haircut courtesy of Buffy's shopping trip. Willow hadn't been invited along, instead being drafted to help Giles sort out a problem with the computer in his apartment. Once again Willow was feeling left out.

It only got worse when she discovered by accident that Anya and Giles were helping Amy work on her magic. Buffy had been chatting about patrol, commenting "…since she already ratted a couple people under that wacky love spell and then herself, it's a big deal. Giles said that we can't leave someone with that sort of power wandering about untrained, because they'd be a hazard to themselves and everyone else. Anya's been going on about this whole Norse pagan thing and Amy's apparently totally into it…"

Amy was getting training with her magic. Anya and Giles were insisting that Amy get training with her magic. The words echoed in Willow's head, swirling with a voice that sounded almost like her own crying out 'but why can't I get some of that training?'

Buffy didn't even seem to notice that she was bothered.

She couldn't wait for Remy to get back to Sunnydale. At least he didn't ignore her. No, he was busy trying to persuade her to move across the country and be closer to where he lived. He might have ulterior motivations and sinister plans. He might just be a too smooth charmer who enjoyed the chase. She wasn't sure it mattered anymore.

End Small Favor 9: Achieving Goals.


	10. Digging in the Past

Author: Lucinda

Rated t for teen

tenth in the 'Small Favor' series

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, Remy belongs to Marvel Comics.

Distribution: archived at , permission given to Mental Wanderings, Luba, Twisting, PEJA, NHA, WLS, Bite Me - anyone else please ask. If you have permission for an earlier "Small Favor" then you still have permission.

Notes: set in a slightly altered s4 BtVS, AU for Marvel in that Remy never joined the X-Men.

sf10..sf10..sf10..sf10

Willow's day had not started well. She'd had awful dreams about frogs swarming out of the drains, and the frogs in the biology classroom reanimating and hopping around in the building, their revolting slimy bodies reeking of formaldehyde, croaking at her, with their eyes clouded over and their teeth gleaming under the fluorescent lights. That had been followed by all the hot water being used up before she got her shower, leaving her shivering and miserable, though clean.

The call from her parents hadn't helped. Her dad had told her to stay out of trouble and not to talk to salesmen. Her mother had told her that they wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving, because there was a fascinating conference in Las Vegas that they were going to attend, and she was certain that Willow would be able to cope for the holiday. Perhaps she could spend a bit of time with Alex, or perhaps, if no one else was available, with Bunny.

Willow didn't remember exactly what she'd told her mother, though she'd probably told her – again – that her friends were Xander and Buffy. That she could manage over the holiday without them. That she'd collect the mail and check on the house.

Turkeys, cranberry jelly, and sweet potatoes were on special sales in the stores in preparation for Thanksgiving, and Willow had decided that her life sucked and she hated Sunnydale. Her parents had cancelled on her. Her classes had remained as they had been before, lots of busywork, a few people goofing off, some causing trouble, and some trying to crib notes and emergency pre-test study sessions from those who wanted to pay attention. Anya had found a book about several hundred different sexual positions, and had decided that she and Xander needed to work their way through all of them.

Willow wanted to avoid the details. Buffy had looked ready to take notes.

Amy was getting instructions in magic. Anya and Giles would give her a bit here and a bit there, and for now, Amy was staying in the second bedroom of the apartment that Anya and Xander shared. She seemed entirely cheerful about the whole thing.

Giles hadn't offered Willow any lessons at all. In fact, he'd asked her to do a locator spell for a demon nest to send Buffy after, and to destroy another magical talisman found in a nest of vampires.

Willow didn't know how to destroy that one either.

What she had done was invest in a small safe, about the size of an ottoman, and left it in her room at her parents' house. Right now, it held the few bits of good jewelry that she owned, the inlaid box from the crypt, four small magical talismans from various demons they'd slain and the one from D'Hoffryn, a copy of the soul restoration ritual on a disk and in printout form, a couple pieces from Ted the robot, and her legal documentation. It looked rather empty. But at least it would keep casual snoops out of her things.

Returning to the dorm room after psychology, Willow was surprised at the quiet. Buffy had insisted that they needed to spend some time together, to just relax, hang out and make their own mochas. Buffy was many things, but quiet wasn't one of them. Glancing around the room, there was no Buffy. No Buffy and Buffy's white jacket was gone. There was also a note stuck to the front of the little refrigerator they kept in the dorm.

With the sinking feeling that she'd been ditched again, Willow gestured for the note to come over. The magnet fell to the floor, and Willow made a mental note to pick it up later. She looked at the paper, unsure if she should be hoping for some sort of demon crisis. Buffy's familiar handwriting held some answers, but not enough.

Willow

Giles called - some weird stuff at the museum, some old Indian pots got broken and some other old Indian stuff got stolen. Some local tribe - chum-smash?

He thinks it's something hellmouthy. Riley's giving me a lift over to Giles' place.

Meet us there for research when you get back from class, ok?

Buffy

Reading the note, Willow could feel her teeth grinding together, and a blood vessel in her temple started to throb. Buffy couldn't wait for Willow to get back so they could head over together? She wanted her to just meet them over there? Granted, hellmouthy weirdness was a fairly good reason to cancel girls' night, but... She was angry about the whole thing. There wasn't even a note about having to cancel plans, just Riley giving her a lift, head over. What if she had other things to do? What if...

No, in Buffy's mind, Willow never had any other plans. And apparently canceling plans with Willow was something that was no big deal. After all, since Willow had no plans, they could just do something later, right? Except that 'later' never seemed to include Willow. Buffy's note was now a crumpled ball in Willow's hand.

From her backpack, a ringing noise caught Willow's attention, dragging her thoughts away from images of Buffy drowning in a giant mocha. Someone was calling her. If it was Buffy… well, it better not be Buffy. Or Xander. Or anyone asking when she'd be at Giles house for research.

Fighting to keep her calm, Willow answered the phone, "This is Willow."

"Nice to hear you, Willow. Remy wanted to know if you have plans for tomorrow? Promised to come back to Sunnydale an' visit you, and Remy would prefer to see your face at de airport instead of having to fight for a taxi."

Willow could feel herself smiling as he spoke, each accented word soothing her frazzled temper. "Remy… What time tomorrow does your flight arrive? I need to do a little studying for one of my classes, but other than that, tomorrow's open."

"Flight's supposed to be landin' at two, if dere are no delays, but Remy don' count on no delays when making travel plans. Maybe Remy talk you into giving over your afternoon?"

"I can do that. If I arrive a bit early, I can study while I wait for your plane to come in, and…. Did you have arrangements for somewhere to stay?" Willow found herself looking forward to seeing Remy again, and not just because he was an attractive man. When he'd been in town before, he'd listened to her when she wanted to talk, and he'd never once blown off plans with her in favor of a date, like Buffy kept doing, or told her that he expected better of her, like her parents tended to do...

"Remy be on Flight one-fifty seven, scheduled arrival time two in de afternoon. Sunnydale Airport's not big enough to worry about which gate, only about if dey lost de luggage."

"Not a problem," Willow glanced around the room, and started throwing together a few things to take with her to her parents' house. Considering the mood she'd been in, she didn't much feel like seeing Buffy any more than necessary. All of her textbooks and notes for her classes, a few of her clothes, though by no means all of them, a jacket, and her new laptop. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Remy looking forward to dat."

After the conversation with Remy, Willow finished packing up those few things, and shook her head. Things would get better soon, wouldn't they? Willow took the long route to Giles' apartment, swinging by the Rosenberg house to drop things off, take in the mail, and double check that all the windows were locked. She left a light on in the kitchen, planning to sleep there instead of at the dorm. Her textbooks were on the kitchen table, and she'd left the laptop in her bedroom.

No sooner had she arrived then she found herself waved towards the computer. Apparently, Riley and Buffy were on a patrol that was supposed to include the museum, in case whoever was responsible had been searching for something and intended to continue their efforts. Xander handed her a scrap of paper detailing the stolen items – several necklaces, a talisman, two decorated leather pouches, and a ceremonial spear – from the Chumash exhibit at the local museum. Giles, Anya and Amy were in a huddle around the coffee table, with a collection of old books, murmuring in low voices. Willow only caught a few words – fetish, shaman, and invocation. Considering that this was the hellmouth, Willow doubted that it had anything to do with kinky personal lives, even if one of the people discussing was Anya, and she also doubted that this was a good idea.

It didn't take long for her to determine that the museum website wouldn't be helpful, and slightly longer to determine that there was no way to get into more informative files unless you were actually in the museum on the museum's network. Determined to get something, she brought up the Sunnydale Historical Society's webpage, which had sections for earlier history of the area that was now Sunnydale. There was information about the Spanish missionaries and settlers, which she knew included a few things about seeking gold and mentioned that the Spanish had called the area "la Boca del Infierno". There was also a section about the Indian tribes what had lived in the area, including the Chumash.

They'd been wiped out by early European colonists. It had been a combination of foreign diseases and settlers with guns deciding that the natives had the best plots of land, and they were just going to take the land by force. One detail caught her attention – how the last shaman was supposed to have placed a curse on the area. It didn't mention what the curse was supposed to do, but the words made Willow rather cautious.

"Giles? Do your books say anything about how to determine if there's a curse on an area of land? Maybe Anya has an idea for figuring out that sort of thing. Or…" Willow paused, an awful idea coming to her. "Do we know when the Hellmouth formed in Sunnydale?"

Nobody answered her. With a huff, Willow copied the information from the historical society into a file, and saved it on the computer's desktop. She also saved the map that showed all the reported sites where Chumash artifacts had been found, and some of the places where Chumash had lived. She also brought up the geological surveys of Sunnydale, the ones to establish caves and fault lines, the ones to indicate potential coal or natural gas, and the one that showed the water table and known waterways and springs. She also emailed copies of all these to herself so she could continue elsewhere, if necessary.

"Right, since this is such a good way to spend my Tuesday, and everybody's been so helpful with figuring out what we need to know, I'll just be on my way out. I do have exams coming up," Willow closed her browser windows, and left the computer on, knowing that Anya could use it, and hoping that Amy still remembered after her time as a rat. She stepped around the furniture and the couple stacks of books that had made their way out during a few research sessions and over to the door. She hesitated, glancing back at them, wondering if anyone would question her leaving. She didn't know if she wanted them to wave her off with a suggestion of studying or to ask her to stay and research more.

Nobody said anything either way.

That night, Willow dreamed that she was turning as invisible as Marcie Ross, except that frogs could still see her. Evil, predatory frogs, the little rainbow hued poison dart frogs, giant frogs, and the reanimated formaldehyde frogs from last night, with their creepy clouded over dead eyes. Nobody noticed as she ran through buildings, screaming as the slimy frogs chased her, hopping and croaking through one of Professor Walsh's lectures. She ran through a wedding, held at night in a cemetery, only belatedly noticing as she ducked past the bridesmaids in their mauve gowns that everyone in the wedding party were vampires, complete with ridges, yellow eyes and fangs, with a vampire in clerical robes holding the Anarchist's Cookbook instead of a Bible. The frogs followed her, except for a few that hopped into the vampire bridesmaids' bouquets.

Willow was at the airport by noon, the car parked in the lot and her cell phone muted. She found a seat near the boarding gate, and settled into the faded orange plastic chair to wait for Remy. The bright sunshine coming through the large windows and the absence of any small animals, especially slimy, noisy frogs, helped soothe her nerves. The airport wasn't that busy, so she could glance out the window periodically while reviewing chapters nine through fifteen.

The phone flashed a little bell icon, indicating a call. Seeing that it was Buffy, Willow let it go to voicemail. Only after she was sure that Buffy was no longer on the phone did she listen to the message. 'Willow, where are you? You missed lunch at the Square, and when I got to Giles' place, still no Willow! We've got something really weird going on and you need to look up some stuff. Where are you?'

Willow snorted and closed the phone. Buffy's call had irritated her all over again. "Sure, now you want to know where I am. Look up your own stuff. Or maybe Riley can look it up for you."

At one thirty, the bell icon blinked again, showing a call from Anya. Willow let that go to voice mail too, promising herself that if it was important, she could apologize for not picking up. Maybe voicemail would keep Anya from digressing into discussions of money or sex. After a couple minutes, she checked that message. 'Willow, Xander's on the couch with a fever. They found something at the construction site, and everybody got sent home. We met here, and he started going pale and sweaty. Giles is fairly certain that something at the site is responsible; Amy and I think it's a curse. It feels a lot like unfocused vengeance to me. There's not much you can do, though if you could figure out of the other construction guys are down with this too it would help. I'll call back if there's anything else you can do.'

"Ohhhh, I hope they figure out what's going on," Willow murmured. Even if they hadn't been talking as much lately, even if he'd been very, very busy with Anya, Xander was still her friend since kindergarten. She didn't want anything awful to happen to him. If she had her laptop, she'd be trying to get the names of the other members of the construction crew that Xander was part of, but with only her cell phone, there wasn't much she could do.

Remy's flight arrived at ten minutes after two. She stood up when she caught sight of him in the knot of people streaming in from the plane, and gave a small wave. He made his way towards her with a tired smile and a duffel slung over his shoulder, "Good to see you. Also very good to be on ground dat's not wobbling side to side."

"This is California, give it some time," Willow teased. "Do you have any luggage to collect, or just your carry on?"

"Remy only brought one suitcase, any more an' de airport wanted more money," Remy grumbled, looking half offended.

Willow just shook her head, and they went to hunt down Remy's suitcase. It was the same battered brown leather as his trench coat, and didn't look quite like anybody else's luggage at all. Suitcase collected, they made their way to the car, and Willow smothered giggles at his murmured litany of airport complaints.

"Remy's got a reservation at de Oceanview Hotel. Planning to stay for a while, maybe see if I can talk you into making a longer visit to N'Awlins next month," he leaned back in the seat of the car, a low groan emerging as his shoulder made a grinding crackly noise. "De seats on de plane were awful."

"I'm sorry your trip out here was so unpleasant. Maybe things will be a bit better now that you're here? …. And I can't believe I just suggested that the hellmouth would be an improvement on anything… just ignore me, it's been a frustrating week. There's been midterms, and all the people who were too cool or too busy to pay attention are suddenly looking for study-buddies, except that what they really want is someone to just pour the knowledge right into their brain, and you can't do that… not without some awful side effects, like dead bodies and a high chance of tumors, or scales, or your brain turning to goo and dribbling out your ears…" Willow sighed and glanced at Remy, "Sorry. I didn't mean to babble at you."

"Huh, Remy didn' even know dat was possible," he shook his head, and took the sunglasses off long enough to rub his eyes. "Maybe Remy should have got more sleep las' night instead of harrasin' Henri about his girlfriend."

"Yeah, sleep is normally of the good, especially when you aren't plagued by dreams of reanimated frogs dripping formaldehyde chasing you through vampire weddings."

"Reanimated frogs? You live here, and the t'ing ending up chasing you t'rough your dreams be reanimated frogs?" Remy started to laugh.

By the time Willow had arrived at the Oceanview Hotel, Remy had talked her into coming up to his room for some coffee. He chatted about some of the places that she should see when she visited New Orleans next month, and flirted shamelessly, grinning each time he made her blush. He'd also managed to talk her into the pair of them having dinner tomorrow at the Rosenberg house.

By the time Willow left, her phone was blinking to signal that she had another voice mail. Listening, she heard Anya's voice again. 'Willow, we managed to find out that a couple of the other constructions guys were affected. Some sort of Chumash Vengeance spell gave Xander syphilis, smallpox, measles and a strain of the flu… really effective work, I have to say. Amy and Giles found a way to counter it, and Amy and I cast the spell. Xander's back to normal, the other guys probably are too…' there was some sort of noise in the background, Willow was almost certain that she could hear a man saying 'bloody arses'. Something crashed, and Anya's voice continued, 'oh, and we have a defenseless mascot now. I'm sure Buffy will tell you all about it later.'

"huh. What was all that about?" Willow blinked, and shrugged. She'd probably find out soon enough. After all, if there was anything important, Buffy'd pass it on, even if she had to call, right?

End Small Favor 10: Digging in the Past


	11. Small Bites

sf11..sf11..sf11..sf11

Having taken Remy to the Oceanview Hotel and stayed for a coffee or three, Willow eventually left to go back to her parents' house. She couldn't promise that there would be no bad dreams about reanimated frogs or vampire weddings, but there wouldn't be problems of other people using up all the hot water, or noises from next door, across the hall, or the floor above or below keeping her up. Tomorrow was a fairly light day for class, with only one and that not until two o clock. Once they took the exam, they would be free to leave and be done until next week.

She had to admit that she was slightly more nervous about hearing Buffy s explanation of when they'd gotten a mascot, and why. Buffy d probably interrogate her about where she d been and why she hadn't been answering her phone Willow had a sudden bitter moment and wondered if Buffy would believe that she'd left the phone charging in the dorm room. If Buffy had been at the room, it would have been easy to see the presence or absence of the phone

For a more pleasant nervous, Remy had talked her into dinner tonight at her parents house. A quick glance through the pantry and refrigerator convinced her that she'd need to do a bit of grocery shopping in the morning. It would have been better to have done it yesterday, but that was what she got for not thinking ahead.

Shaking her head, Willow flipped open her Geometry notes. While she was fairly certain that she knew the material, that she shouldn't have any troubles with the exam, there was no harm in checking what sections the test would cover. Okay, checking again, and flipping through the textbook to make sure that she wouldn't get a sudden rush of nerves at the sight of the test questions and freeze up. That had happened to her once, in Mr. DeSalva s fourth grade class, and it had been horrible. She'd been the last one to hand in the test, and she still remembered that awful feeling of the knowledge just sinking away Maybe she worried too much about her studies.

Then again, sometimes those studies mattered. Maybe the world wouldn't end if she couldn't remember who had devised a certain theorem. Maybe it didn't matter in the long run if she could discuss feminist issues as manifested in the works of the Bronte sisters. But there were more than a few magical rituals that depended on having certain diagrams mathematically correct, or things placed at specific points. Identifying contextual bias could apply to Watcher histories and demon compendiums as easily as classical literature. Psychology vampires and a lot of types of demons thought, and therefore it could be useful to know the signs of instability, or how to try to predict behavior patterns. Demons and rituals could mean the end of the world, or at least the end of her life.

She reviewed everything that could be on the test. Geometry had immediate applications when fighting demons or working magic. It was best to make very certain she knew her stuff.

That night Willow dreamed about needing to draw a precise set of diagrams and then they could close the Hellmouth. All she had to do was inscribe a dodecagon inside an octagon inside a decahedron inside an equilateral triangle with the correct Latin, Egyptian, and Hebrew inscriptions and they could start the ritual. But her she kept having to recalculate the angles of her polygons, and she was rubbish at Egyptian

In the morning, she carefully noted the details down in her real dream journal. As much as she could remember, including the bits about what the inscriptions were supposed to mean. The bits about the incense burning in shiny bronze censors hanging from the ceiling. The colors of chalk for each polygon. It could be most likely was nothing more than her mind protesting all the studying right before she went to bed. But it couldn't hurt to ask, could it?

In the dream journal that she was going to turn in for Psychology class, indicated by the yellow UC Sunnydale cover, she recorded something slightly similar. The for-class version had the drawing of a giant complicated diagram as the exam, with the angles needing to be right or else points would be removed. She would need to mark each intersection with the precise measure of the angle, to the third decimal point. No calculators or scratch paper were allowed, and a poor grade could mean failing the class. Nothing to suggest magic, or demons, or mystical portals. Nothing that couldn't be explained away as normal test anxiety. But it would count as one of at least two entries a week for the rest of the term, due the last week of class that would be worth a quarter of her grade for Psychology class.

Finishing with her records of both versions of the dream, Willow moved to the kitchen. A bit of effort produced a tolerable breakfast and a start on a list of things that she d need to buy or replace. Soon she had a decent sized list, and then Willow stopped. From the looks of the list, someone might assume that she was putting together a Thanksgiving feast, or planning to stay here for the next couple weeks. That was silly wasn't it?

Strange dreams aside, she had gotten a better night s sleep and a more restful morning than she had for quite a while in the dorm. Nothing about Riley or patrolling or how being the Slayer was just so hard. No noisy parties. No strange noises echoing along the pipes.

No Buffy sneaking in a two in the morning.

Maybe staying here had some appeal. Taking a deep breath, Willow promised herself to see how things went today. Maybe Buffy had just been busy with patrolling. Trying to find the cause of the whole Chummash spirit curse thingie. And the mascot She would have to see what was going on with that before making any big decisions. Then again, the dorms would be closed next week for Thanksgiving anyhow In which case, she might want to get some more clothes from the dorm room.

It took almost two hours before Willow was back in the house, putting away groceries. Two hours of chaotic panic and rampaging children at the grocery store, made worse by last minute shoppers who almost came to blows over cans of yams, cranberry jelly, and the last tin of poultry spice. Awful long lines at the checkout. Maniacs zooming through a parking lot dotted with abandoned shopping carts. Uggh.

She left a bag of canned goods near the pantry, and the paper towels and tissues in the hall. Not because she didn't want to put everything away neatly, but because with the way traffic had been, she wanted to make certain she had enough time to drive to campus, find a parking space, and get to class before the test started.

An hour later, Willow walked toward the dorm, feeling relieved. Her possibly obsessive studying had paid off, and she had not only been prepared for the test, it had felt easy. Now she just needed to pack up some more clothes and take them to the car.

The door to room 221 had been broken off the hinges.

Willow stared at it, feeling much, much better about not sleeping here last night. That was just down the hall from the room she shared with Buffy! What had happened?

The dorm room was locked, and from the quiet, Willow suspected that Buffy was elsewhere. Again. Opening the door, she sighed into the dark room, and began packing a duffel with clothing. She also picked up her shower caddy and the charger for her cell phone. A trip to the car left her wishing that she d parked closer and she returned to the dorm room to see if there was anything that she d missed.

"Willow! There you are, I've been looking for you," Buffy called out, catching Willow's attention.

"Hey, Buffy..." Willow faltered, uncertain just what to say. "I guess you found me."

"You didn't answer your phone yesterday! I must have called you like a dozen times, there was some crazy stuff happening," Buffy caught Willow's arm and towed her into the room, one foot sending the door closed with a sharp bang.

"I was..." Willow began to say something, another part of her mind insisting that Buffy had only called her phone once, which was a far cry from a dozen times.

"Anyhow, I am so sorry that you had to deal with last night! Riley told me that there was a fire alarm down the hall, and a door got broken down," Buffy shook her head and gave Willow a glance, "Who's down there anyhow?"

"Gretchen with the pink hair and her friend, the one with all the tattoos on her arm," Willow offered. "Are they okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Buffy frowned, and glanced up. "The whole chummy Indians thing was awful There were arrows, and Xander had these diseases, and... We still don t know how it all got started. Sort of reminds me of the whole nightmare thing from high school, with the Little League player. Anya's pretty sure there was some sort of vengeance magic mixed up in it all."

"Wouldn't she be the person to know about that? Considering her last job and all," Willow insisted.

"I suppose you re right about that. Anyhow, I just wanted to suggest that you might not want to stay in the dorm over break. Things could I mean, there was that thing with those floating evil guys that hit the dorms, there was that false fire alarm last night something's got to be going on with the wiring for that, you know? And maybe you should look into a new cell phone, the battery on yours can't keep a charge," Buffy added.

Willow sighed, and looked around the room. Obviously, Buffy had no clue that she hadn't been here last night or this morning. And she really doubted that it was something as simple as a false fire alarm, not with the door broken in like that. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this isn't the best place for me."

As Buffy dashed off with a mumble about Riley and mochas, Willow gave a sad wave.

Maybe Sunnydale wasn't the best place for her. Grabbing everything warm and summery, she packed that up to take back to the house. At this rate, she just might look into relocating, especially if Remy made a good case for New Orleans over the winter break. And she wasn't too sure that she was even needed for anything here fighting demons. Life away from the Hellmouth might be healthier and longer. Maybe it was a good thing that freshman registration for Winter Quarter hadn't started yet?

She'd have to talk to Remy tonight over dinner. Part of her wondered if it was a bad idea to give him a chance when so much of her was just hoping for an excuse to leave. It wasn't until she was bringing the shower caddy into the Rosenberg house when Willow realized that Buffy hadn't said anything about the harmless mascot that Anya had mentioned.

She spent the next two hours putting clothing carefully away, tucking the contents of the shower caddy into the bathroom, and restocking the bathroom first aide kit while she tried to calm down. Maybe Buffy was just distracted by everything, or maybe she really was ditching Willow. Either way, it wouldn't be fair to take that out on Remy when he arrived.

Speaking of Willow was almost certain that she felt Remy s presence approaching the house. Closing the lid of the kit, she made her way towards the door, feeling quite glad that all of her clothing had been put away, undergarments first. Peeking out the window beside the front door, Willow gave a grin at the sight of Remy. Opening the door, she flashed a grin, "Hey, I didn't expect to see you until later."

"Almost five already, belle Willow," Remy drawled. "You lose track of time?"

"It's that late? Oh wow maybe I did lose track," Willow could feel her cheeks getting warm. "I hadn't even started working on something for dinner yet."

"Cooking sometimes more fun if you work together, non?" Remy grinned at her, stepping into the house. No further invitation was necessary, and the front door was catching a nice patch of sunlight.

"I have the suspicion that you could make all sorts of things more fun than they usually are," Willow countered. Part of her wondered if this was flirting, if this was how it was supposed to go

"Remy t'ought being charming be a virtue."

"That all depends on whether you use your charm for good, or for evil," Willow mused, her mind flickering to Parker Abrams, and that Tom who'd lured Buffy off to the snake-demon worshiping frat house. Moloch who d been oh-so charming at first, though that was all online. Mayor Wilkins had been charming, and evil with a capital E. "Don't go luring people off to sacrifice to demons, or vampires. Never plan to turn into a giant snake it never helps. And trying to get as high a count of females that you've slept with as possible is just not right and unhealthy."

"Don't dere be a list about t'ings bad guys not supposed to do if dey want to win? Remy sure he seen somethin' like dat some time, an not turning into a snake on de list. An legions o terror have clear visors an regular target practice. Force field generators be inside de force fields dat sort o' t'ing?" Remy was making his way towards the kitchen as he talked.

"Well, yeah. The Evil Overlord s list of things that they should remember. The sort of things that would have prevented them from being defeated in a lot of the movies and books," Willow paused, "You've read the evil overlord s list?

"Bunch o' us laugh about it. An why put out a want ad when you can jus' hire a t'ief?" Remy leaned against the counter. "Maybe we start wit coffee. You start dat, Remy see if dere enough to make a nice Cajun style seafood, hmm?"

Willow started working with the coffee maker, and glanced at him. He looked so comfortable at the stove obviously a far better cook than she was. Despite her worries about Remy being too charming, about possible ulterior motives, she was going to ask. "Can you tell me about the universities and colleges near New Orleans? I might be talked in to relocating, but not at the cost of a good education."

The rest of the evening passed with discussion of higher education near New Orleans, and spiced seafood. Willow had no idea how he managed it with what was in the cupboards, pantry and refrigerator of this very house, but it was fabulous. A bit spicier than she was used to, but very good.

"Maybe Remy should have kept in mind dat you not used to dinner biting back," Remy murmured after she bit into a particularly spicy shrimp.

"Don't worry, this sort of biting doesn't draw blood, it's fine," Willow wheezed. "I guess I just need to remember small bites."

As she sipped her water, Willow thought that she could get used to spicy food like that. Especially if it involved a lot more meals with Remy.

End Small Favor 11: Small Bites


	12. Walks and Shocks

Author: Lucinda

Rated t for teen

twelfth in the 'Small Favor' series

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, Remy belongs to Marvel Comics.

Distribution: archived at , permission given to Mental Wanderings, Luba, Twisting, PEJA, NHA, WLS, Bite Me - anyone else please ask. If you have permission for an earlier "Small Favor" then you still have permission.

Notes: set in a slightly altered s4 BtVS, AU for Marvel in that Remy never joined the X-Men.

sf12..sf12..sf12..sf12

Remy had taken to the idea of charming Willow into New Orleans. He talked about the various universities and colleges, and about the various instructors for fighting, for meditation, and even a few that taught magic, people that, as he put it, "I know people who know people, we can talk them into at least meeting you."

But Remy hadn't stopped with that. He'd talked about the rich history of the area, with little museums dotting the city, some about particular families, or buildings, a museum about Civil War officers, several about rumored hauntings and suspected magic users of the past. He talked about the beauty of the garden district, and how there were both organized and informal tours to see the more impressive gardens.

Willow knew that he was trying to talk her into relocating. He'd been quite open about that much. She still hadn't asked him why, certain that there was more than any personal desire to keep her close, and unsure if she wanted to know. If it wasn't anything awful, did it matter if there were other motives?

Saturday, Remy sat there, sipping coffee in the living room of her parents house, and gave a small grin before asking, "Go for a walk wit' Remy. Maybe we look at the beach by moonlight? Very pretty, an' the fresh air be enjoyable."

Willow considered that idea. Nobody had mentioned any big prophecies, scarier than usual demons, or particular problems. If they took a few stakes and maybe some holy water, she figured it might not be too dangerous, and a little bit was exciting. And it would give her something to worry about other than the cute guy she was walking with.

Smiling back at him, "We'll need to take some weapons with us, just in case. Some stakes, maybe some pepper spray. We both are too smart to go for a walk and get eaten by a recently turned minion."

"Remy don' want to be eaten by any vampire, baby minion or otherwise," He agreed.

A vampire tried to attack them near the theater. Willow thought that the girl seemed vaguely familiar, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen her before. It was a lower priority than keeping the snapping fangs from her throat, and the thought crossed her mind that a tongue stud for a vampire was a bit overkill.

Remy staked the vampire in the back as she was trying to bite Willow. "Dat be one of the baby minions you mentioned?"

Brushing the vampire dust from her blouse, Willow nodded, "Yeah. I think I saw her around school, but I'm drawing a blank for her name. I'm very glad that we had the stakes with us."

Reaching out, she took his hand, and smiled, "Thanks."

"Not a problem, belle Willow. T'ink we can make it to the beach wit'out another interruption?" His thumb rubbed over her fingers as he spoke.

As it turned out, they could get to the beach without further troubles. They walked along the damp sand, watching dolphins leaping under the moonlight. It seemed soothing, almost like they were the only people for miles and miles.

"This is nice," Willow sighed, her arm looped around Remy's. "I'm glad you asked me to go out for a walk with you."

"A quiet walk wit' belle femme... what's not to like?" Remy's grin held a hint of teasing and a generous dollop of flirtation.

"Does that mean if you get a girlfriend, she'll have to worry about you just walking off with random pretty women?"

"Not if t'ings be serious wit' de girlfriend," Remy paused a moment before adding, "But t'ings don' start out serious. Dat's for when you already spend time toget'er an' you know you like each ot'er."

Willow couldn't argue with that reasoning. After all, that was the whole point of early dating, to figure out if you liked each other enough for things to get more serious. At least, as long as it wasn't a Sunnydale baddie trying to sacrifice you to a demon or eat you sort of date.

Things changed on her second to last day of class before the break. Willow had no idea how much a call asking if she could pop over to Giles' apartment and help them look up some schematics for a building that seemed to be getting used as a demon lair would be. After all, it sounded so simple, so ordinary.

She dropped by after her big final for her history class. She hadn't realized that the last few years of helping with the demon research and the Watcher's Journals would help so much for history and geography, though she did have to remind herself several times not to talk about demonic influences or the theory that the eruption of Vesuvius had been triggered to stop a demonic ascension. Or to talk about how there really were night stalking demons in the ancient Egyptian deserts. Definitely nothing about how vampires flocked to battlefields to feed on the wounded and dying soldiers.

"So, something about a building being used as a hidey-hole. What building where, and what's hiding inside?" Willow glanced from Giles to Anya and Amy, trying to figure out if this would lead to hunting terrifying demons.

"That ugly pink building on Suttcliffe Street," Buffy answered, coming out of the little kitchen. "I saw vampires, and some sort of scaly things with long claws."

"Anya and Amy are looking for the scaled demons, and Buffy is supposed to be helping with that," Giles added. "If you could find us the schematics of the original building plans?"

It took Willow longer to figure out the right building than to find the schematics. While she knew which building Buffy meant - that particular pink color was not only awful but very memorable - she couldn't enter 'that pink building' into the computer. But she did find the building, access the blueprints, and started the printing. After that, Willow decided that she would visit the bathroom, and went towards the one upstairs, and she'd seen Buffy duck into the half bath near the kitchen.

The sight of Spike chained up and handcuffed to the spout of the bathtub was not something she was prepared to see. It felt just as surreal as the vampire wedding in one of her bad dreams earlier this month. It took her a few moments of staring shock to realize that he looked paler than before, and rather gaunt.

Neither of which took away from the fact that Spike was chained up in the bathtub.

Stunned and rather hurt that nobody had felt it necessary to warn her about the vampire chained up in the bathtub, Willow wandered back downstairs. Her backpack seemed to leap into her hand and she walked out of the apartment, not bothering to see if the blueprints had finished printing, or if there was anything else that anybody needed. Spike was in the bathtub.

The walk back to her house was a blur, and the first thing that she did when she got there was go into the bathroom and throw up. Spike in Giles' bathtub... and nobody had told her. Nobody had said anything about any changes...

No, Anya had mentioned them picking up 'a harmless mascot'. A harmless mascot was something small, and non-violent, not a frequently drunk British vampire with a penchant for kidnapping people and a disregard for rules and traditions. And it had been almost a week since Anya had mentioned the new mascot, and Buffy hadn't said anything about mascots, harmless or otherwise, and certainly nothing about Spike.

Spike was in Giles' bathtub.

The numb shock was changing to dull anger. Willow turned on her laptop and unenrolled herself from classes for the next term. She checked the flights for the Sunnydale airport and found one leaving for New Orleans in three days, and bought a ticket.

Then she thought about Remy. Her fingers shook as she called his cell phone.

'Remy speakin', is dere somet'ing you need?'

"Hey Remy," Willow began, her voice unsteady. "Can you come over?"

She gave him a big hug, before talking at him, a rambling babbling torrent of words about mascots and British vampires and nobody talking to her anymore, none of her friends having time to hang out, just time to ask her to look things up, to take care of this or that. How Amy was getting magical training when her own requests for instruction had been ignored and pushed aside. How none of the people who were supposed to be there for her were there when she needed them. She cried on his shoulder and shouted about people being ungrateful and contrary and frustrating. Then she cried some more.

After all of that, Willow booked a second ticket on the same flight to New Orleans. Remy'd promised to show her around the city, to help distract her from Sunnydale.

The only thing that she intended to return to Sunnydale for would be to send the rest of her things when she finally had a place to stay. A new home, be it a house or an apartment... or moving in with a handsome Cajun. She might stay in New Orleans. She might go elsewhere.

But she was done with living in Sunnydale. She'd be on her way to the airport as soon as she was out of her Psychology class. If any of her supposed to be friends wanted to say anything... they had her number. Time to see how long it took for them to realize that she'd left town.

end Small Favor 12: Walks and Shocks.


	13. Plans for the Future

Author: Lucinda

Rated t for teen

thirteenth in the 'Small Favor' series

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, Remy belongs to Marvel Comics.

Distribution: archived at , permission given to Mental Wanderings, Luba, Twisting, PEJA, NHA, WLS, Bite Me - anyone else please ask. If you have permission for an earlier "Small Favor" then you still have permission.

Notes: set in a slightly altered s4 BtVS, AU for Marvel in that Remy never joined the X-Men.

sf13..sf13..sf13..sf13

Willow glanced out the window of the airplane, seeing an expanse of rippling pale clouds below them. Remy was in the seat next to her, dozing through the flight, or at least doing a very good imitation of sleep. She wouldn't have minded drowsing herself, but her thoughts wouldn't let her sleep.

Things had changed. It was as irreversible and important as the change of discovering that vampires were real, were in Sunnydale, would eat her. Just as important, but much less life threatening. Instead of discovering some new horror, it was that her friends and herself had drifted apart, with the 'unbreakable bonds of friendship' having frayed away to mere threads of habit, and that Giles had implausible expectations of her coupled with insufficient guidance and support.

Not the end of the world. People discovered that their friendships weren't what they had been or what they thought all the time. She'd get over it... eventually. But it still hurt.

It would be melodramatic to call it the end of life as she knew it. Rather, it would be if she wasn't going to combine it with getting out of there, moving to somewhere far away and almost entirely different. Moving from California to possibly Louisiana was okay to call the end of that stage of her life. It would be a change, but change could be good, and kept the mind active and agile...

Wiping at a tear that was slipping down her face, Willow sighed. Her efforts to convince herself that this wasn't so bad were failing. She was horribly upset by how things had happened, and did not feel okay about it. She didn't think she'd be okay with it for a long time. After everything that she'd already done and given, the hours upon hours of researching, the spells and rituals, the stinking herbs, the fighting demons and vampires, the injuries after injuries... It felt like she'd just been dropped, like an apple core or a used tissue. That hurt worse than any broken bone, worse than spell exhaustion, worse than a scrape infected from demon slime.

Much as it mattered, it didn't matter. She would start over, continue her life, improve her life. There were hundreds, thousands of other colleges, better academically than UC Sunnydale. There were safer towns. She could find another place to live, another building to consider home. Make new friends. Find actual teachers for her magic.

She could do this, she could start over. With a bit of luck, she could be starting over in New Orleans, with Remy. Maybe he would become her boyfriend, maybe he'd just be her sexy, flirty friend.

It just wouldn't be easy. The college thing would be the easiest, she could just have her records sent over, enroll for the next term, and get started. The bigger problems would be finding a place to stay and a new job. Maybe just a part time job, or write a few programs, mix a few potions... She just wouldn't have the cash to do everything without some sort of supplementing. Though she might need an address before she could get started on the school part...

Shaking her head, Willow murmured, "I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't need to have everything solved and planned for the next three years before the plane lands. I just need to figure out my priorities and have a plan for getting things in motion."

The plane encountered a bit of turbulence, and the resulting jostling woke Remy up from his nap. "Plane be landing yet?"

"Not yet. We just hit a rough spot," Willow tried to smile. "So, since I didn't take as much time to plan this trip as I should have, do you have any suggestions for where I'm going to be staying?"

"mmmm. Remy make a couple calls once we land, talk to a few people. I may have a better answer den a hotel for the short term," he looked thoughtful, and gave a quick smile. "If dat works out, you be in a good place to take some tours, check out N'Awlins."

Willow nodded, feeling calmer at this reminder that while she was starting over, she wasn't alone. She had someone who could help her out, even if only with finding things, and learning her way around the area, with deciding if New Orleans was the place to stay or if she would continue and find somewhere else. "You'll be with me for some of those tours, right?"

"Of course, belle Willow. Remy make sure he be wit' you for some of dose tours or some other charmer come along an' snap you up," His grin was pure flirtatious trouble.

"Ahhh, but I'm not a prize to be won, or a spiffy little treasure to be stolen," Willow smiled at him, wiping away the last traces of her tears.

With an exaggerated pout, Remy snapped his fingers, "Darn. Dat makes t'ings harder."

Willow giggled, "If everything were easy, you'd get bored."

"Remy might like to try dat sometime," he mused.

"You might be in the wrong line of work for easy," Willow offered.

"Mmmm, you may have a point dere," Remy admitted. "Be easier to get you settled in to N'Awlins."

"There you go jumping ahead, charming Remy," Willow smiled as she shook one finger at him. "You forget that first you have to convince me that New Orleans would be a great place to live, not just a fun place to visit."

"But N'Awlins be such a splendid place dat Remy have no doubts 'bout you loving here as much as Remy do," he replied.

"If you're right, I think a part time job, maybe somewhere similar to the Magic Box, would be in order. It would give me something to do besides study, a bit of income, and a chance to make the connections to get some of the sort of materials that I'd need to make more of the aromatic blends, like the one we talked about last month. You can't just pick up some of those things in the local grocery store."

"Remy never t'ought about dat. So, working in one of dose shops get you what you need?" Remy asked.

"Most stores offer employee discounts for their merchandise. Even if they don't I'll be able to get the records of where they order or buy their things from, and then I can buy my own. Which suggests that I'll need a place to stay that isn't a college dorm," Willow shook her head. "Probably with either no roommate if I can afford it, or one that doesn't ask too many awkward questions."

"Makes sense to Remy," he allowed. "Maybe Remy best start looking for a good place for you to stay while you be fallin' in love wit' N'Awlins?"

"I can work with that plan," Willow smiled. This would be doable. She could make it through this big change, would come out stronger for it all… she hoped.

End Small Favor 13: Plans for the Future.


	14. Landing

sf14..sf14..sf14..sf14

The plane had landed safely in New Orleans, and eventually, they were allowed to leave the plane. Willow glanced at Remy, and asked, "Now what?"

"Simple, belle Willow. You pick up your suitcase, and Remy will make a couple calls to try an' arrange you a nice place to stay in N'Awlins," he grinned, and leaned over to kiss her forehead before heading towards a quieter area to make a few calls.

"Okay, that works for now," Willow agreed. "Will you meet me in the luggage area after you do your calls? It might be a bit tricky to locate you otherwise, this airport's a lot bigger than the one back in Sunndyale."

As Willow made her way through the airport, following signs that claimed the baggage claim for section B was this way, she tried not to be overwhelmed by all the people. There were more people than had ever been at Sunnydale High. More people than she d seen at any place at UC Sunnydale. She was tempted to say that there were more people in this airport right now than there were in Sunnydale all together, though that might just be that everyone was right here instead of spread over a whole town.

But the airport was a lot larger than the one at Sunnydale. She was fairly certain that the Sunnydale airport would fit in this one several times. Possibly even including the parking lot a few times over . And just how far was it to the baggage claim anyhow?

Part of Willow wanted to find a spot near the wall and just watch the people. There were so many people, and she could hear different accents, and different languages. She could see so many different types of people, older people, people her age, couples, families, people traveling with children. There were people in their professional suits, people in battered jeans and shirts that looked like their best days were a few years in the past. There were even a few people who reminded her of Remy, not in their features, but in some other way that she couldn t explain. Maybe they were also part of his Guild of Thieves?

With a small shake of her head, Willow headed towards the rows of baggage carousels. If there were or weren t members of Remy s Guild here, it wasn t something to wonder about out loud. It was always a good idea to keep track of her things, but she suspected that Remy s guild had bigger things to focus on than carry-on bags at the airport. Not that there might not be more ordinary pick pockets

The conveyor began to move, and with a clattering noise, suitcases began to emerge. There were a crowd of brown, grey and blue suitcases, looking so much like each other that she wondered how they could figure out which one belonged to the passenger without looking at the little sticky tag a tag that could get pulled away so easily. There was a set in this appalling orange and pink large floral print, and a pair of lime green suitcases. More of the look-alike blues and greys. A giant olive duffel bag that looked big enough to have a body. A set of powder pink bags with lacy white ribbons. Finally, the plum faded to burgundy suitcase that she d brought from Sunnydale fell onto the conveyor.

The suitcase was as bulky as ever, but not as heavy as it had seemed a few years ago. Before she d started fighting. Before she knew some of what was out there. Pulling it close, she looked around for Remy. With a sigh, she towed the suitcase towards one of the support pillars figuring that it would be easier to wait back a bit from the horde of people stalking their suitcases.

Willow watched the people as she leaned against a column. There were some who looked exhausted, swaying as they faced the luggage carousel. There were small children darting about, sometimes laughing, sometimes shouting at each other, with some parents making gestures and perhaps telling their children to behave while others were either alone or had parents who were pretending not to know that unruly child over there. She could see people tapping feet and glaring impatiently at the luggage, darting in to snatch a suitcase up, sometimes stalking away with it and other times tossing it back with offended glares. She could see people who looked flustered and nervous, hovering as they watched the luggage, waiting for their own. They looked like they were afraid that their luggage was on its way to Paris, or Houston, or Timbuktu.

For a moment, she glimpsed Remy making his way towards the baggage claim area, but she lost sight of him behind a pack of people in grey and black business suits.

See anybody interestin ? Remy s voice caught her attention away from the crowd of people.

People-watching, she offered. It can be interesting, if you aren t in the middle of them all. And if they aren t watching you, and you don t have to make any speeches or anything like that.

Remy talked to a few people, an make a few plans. Friend of mine got a spare room you can stay in for a while, he say he need it back by N Year. Nother friend gonna be here to pick us up an take us to get some good food. We can talk over food bout places you want to see while you re here, an how Remy gonna convince you to stay, he grinned at her, peering over his sunglasses.

Willow smiled back, I can tell you now that it will take more than you being charming and handsome which you seem to do about as easily as you breathe. Show me that the city has interesting places, that it s safer than home. Help me find good, promising ways to continue my education. Maybe find some decent places where I might get a part time job. And I d need a place to live

You been thinkin about what it d take to make you stay, hmm? He took hold of her suitcase and started to tow it along as they walked towards the exit. Should Remy be worried dat bein charmin not help?

I know that you travel for your job. And while I know that parts of the city are going to be beautiful and historic I want more than that. I want a place that can feel like home. Home isn t history, and it isn t the charming guy who drops in sometimes even if that charming guy becomes my boyfriend. Sunnydale isn t home anymore. Maybe New Orleans can be, she looped her arm through his, and sighed. Does dat mean you be lookin for a charmin Cajun to play tour guide? Remy might be available, he teased. Maybe Remy be available for more den jus playin tour guide, hmm?

Tour guide and expert on local dining and opportunities, yes. As for more than that, well, didn t we have a conversation about how casual dating was to see if two people would work for something more serious? Willow glanced at him, wanting him to know that she was serious about this. About wanting to see if there could be something between them. If there could be more than friendship and charm. I think that s a matter for careful consideration. Maybe we can consider that while you help me explore New Orleans.

Dat be no problem at all, belle Willow, you don worry bout a t ing, Remy agreed, a smug smile crossing his lips. Remy take care of everyt ing. Got it all planned out.

Willow walked with Remy out of the airport, taking a deep breath. A new start, a new future, and maybe a new boyfriend As much as she would have liked to say that the future smelled wonderful, it was actually more like spices and car exhaust and a different sort of faint ocean smell, with mud and fish. She could hear traffic, and car horns, and someone squealed their tires off to the right. Seagulls made their demanding noises and circled overhead, looking for dropped morsels of food, and small brown birds hopped about over cars and on the ground. As long as the flight had been, she was glad that Remy had everything planned out.

End Small Favor 14: Landing


	15. Needing Balance

sf15..sf15..sf15..sf15

Remy's friend lived in an area that was built completely different from what Willow was used to seeing. The houses were built right up against each other, most without any space between, the occasional gap that might be big enough for a stray cat or a small dog but not for a human. There were the rare mini-allies, wide enough for one or two people to walk down, and looking just shadowed and littered enough to send Willow's mind into a suspicious distrustful mental effort to catalog every demon species that might live in or near New Orleans and to try to determine if there would be enough shade for a vampire in those little allies.

She suspected that someone with good balance could move to any building on the same block without ever having to come back down to the street. Remy could probably do it.

"Callie be in de yellow building", Remy pointed at part of the wall of buildings.

Willow looked more carefully in that direction. There was a shoe store in a green building, and what she was guessing was a locksmith in a pale blue or maybe grey building, and then a yellow building with a window box of orange and yellow flowers mixed into a lot of greenery, with a balcony painted orange and festooned with ivy. Past the yellow building was one painted white with a sign that had a large hat with a curling feather… she wasn't certain if that was a regular hat store, or period costumes, or something more exotic.

The door was opened by a woman that Willow estimated to be a bit younger than Mrs. Summers, with mocha skin, dressed in a red and orange patterned dress with a matching scarf over her hair. The woman – Callie? – hugged Remy, and then hugged Willow, tugging them both inside. Inside smelled like spices and tomatoes, and there were shelves of books everywhere. Not the old, leather-bound tomes of demons that Willow was used to, or the sort of public reference books from a library, but paperbacks. Some were in paler colors with swirling letters, some had brilliant colors over the spines, and others had been done with dark spines.

The woman patted Remy on the cheek, and smiled at Willow, "Why don' de two of you sit down, I be right back wit' some coffee."

Remy draped himself on the end of a couch, moving a couple books as he sat down, and chuckled, "Callie be a bit differen' den you expect?"

"A bit," Willow agreed. She moved closer to one of the shelves, peering at the titles. She was close enough to reach out and touch them, not that she did, and could see that the shelves were stacked two deep with books. There were Westerns, organized by author, and she could see a few Tom Clancy novels, and she recognized a few mystery writers, and some horror – Peter Straub, Dean R Koontz. There were also books by Alfred Hitchcock and Michael Crichton. There were science fiction by Andre Norton, Robert Heinlan, Isaac Asimov, William Gibson, and Lois McMaster Bujold. Taking a few more steps, she could see that the next bookcase seemed to be laden with Romances. Some had a publication line visible on the spine – proclaiming them to be Silhouette's, or Blaze's, or Regency's. Visible author names included Carole Mortimer, Jude Devereaux, Kelley Armstrong, and Kathleen Woodiwiss.

"Either she's running a private lending library or her taste in books runs along the lines of 'can I get it' rather than something more specific…" Willow had a small smile as she glanced around. There were three big sets of book shelves in this room, with stacks on the end table, a small stack that Remy had moved to the floor, and another sitting beside the telephone. Through a doorway, she could see another book shelf, and a chair with a couple hardbacks sitting on the cushion.

"What's wrong wit' dat?" Remy shrugged, leaning back into the couch before wincing and pulling another book out from behind him.

Willow took a few moments to consider that question before she came up with something, "The speed with which you run out of book money and shelf space."

"Dat's abou' de only good reason anyone's come up wit' for my books bein' a problem," the woman was back, with a small tray bearing three mugs of coffee. She handed one to Remy, another to Willow, and kept the third as she settled into a massive armchair that had a hardback book tucked into the side. "Remy say you need a place to stay for a while. You moving to N'Awlins?"

"Moving away from where I was, but I'm not entirely sure about the 'to New Orleans' part. Remy's trying to convince me that here's perfect." Willow sipped at the coffee, which tasted of spices, though she wasn't sure that it wasn't just the scent of them in the air affecting her sense of taste. "Not that I have any reasons to object just yet, but… I want to know more about schools, about possible jobs and places to stay, about safety and finding things… and Remy promised to play tour guide."

"mmmm-hmmm, he did, did he?" she shot Remy a look. "Jus' remember, this one's been charmin' people since he could string two words together."

"Callie's husband work wit' Remy, she know me a little too well," Remy admitted.

"N'Awlins isn't a perfect place, but nowhere is," Callie paused to sip at her coffee. "The universities offer some good classes, if the students willin' to put in the work to learn, an' not all of them are willin' to work at it. There's some beautiful scenery here, but ther are also some parts of the city that… jus' aren't as pretty or as nice."

Remy snorted, "The pretty areas don' always be full of nice people, jus' people wit' nice t'ings. Some of dose rich people be very nasty."

"As for a place to stay, you stay here for a while. If you decide to stay in N'Awlins, we can help you find your own place. Be a bit different from where you lived before… where did you live before, anyhow?" Callie looked at Willow.

"Sunnydale, California. It's a lot smaller than New Orleans, and it's about three or four hours from Los Angeles, depending on traffic. It looks like a quiet, nice little town," Willow shook her head, and muttered, "Looks can be very deceiving."

"Small town, hmm? How bad could it be?" Callie had an amused expression, one that suggested that Willow might be exaggerating just a bit.

"In my grade, we had one hundred and forty six students when I started first grade. By the time I graduated, there were eighty seven. That was the biggest graduating class in seventy years for Sunnydale. Before you ask, there were only three that were elsewhere, Zack's family moved away after his older sister was found mauled at the beach, Chesca's dad got transferred to a different Army base, and Marcy… Marcy got taken away by some scary suit guys in a very, very bland van with plates that the BMV said don't exist. Granted, a lot of them were officially listed as runaways, but…" Willow shook her head, "the official version's in Sunnydale were generally nowhere near the truth. About anything."

Callie just blinked, her eyes wide and her brows arching upwards like butterfly wings. Her lips moved a couple times, as if trying to start words, but no sound emerged.

"Dat's part of why Willow decided not to be dere anymore. Not a safe place, less so if de friends dat you t'ought you could count on not bein' dere for you anymore. Remy try to convince belle Willow dat she can try to make t'ings better in other places," Remy spoke into the stunned silence.

"The things goin' on in Sunnydale… are things that can be stopped? Are they things that can be counteracted by someone with the right skills?" Callie spoke slowly, as if the words could twist around and bite.

"What's responsible for the deaths can be fought, if you have the right skills, if you're careful enough and brave enough. It would be easier if the people in charge weren't covering things up, and maybe now they won't be, not in Sunnydale, but… most people don't want to know what's really going on. So there aren't too many places that someone can turn to for help. The causes of those deaths… it's not something that's just limited to Sunnydale, otherwise… if it were just Sunnydale, people could move away and be safe. But you can't just go elsewhere and forget, be safe. There isn't anywhere that's entirely safe," Willow stared at the coffee as if it would be able to show her something, a better way, a safer place. "I can't forget, and I can't just stay out of the way."

"Maybe what you need before you got tangled up in somethin' like that is some of those skills. Would a martial arts class help? Or is it…" Callie swallowed, and glanced at one of the shelves, "Is the danger less… ordinary? Not so vulnerable to knees or guns?"

Remy glanced at Willow, and offered a single word "Oui."

"You've read some books with the paranormal, right? Where there's this hidden world full of things that aren't human, and have different rules, different abilities, different weaknesses. I can't read those sorts of books anymore, because the ones that are anywhere near what I've seen are horror, and I get enough of that in my life. Not everything that isn't human is evil and dangerous and trying to eat you, but there's enough that is that it's just… it's not safe, and some things are vulnerable to the same sorts of things as humans and some aren't. Werewolves aren't some sort of courageous defenders of the earth, and vampires aren't sexy and misunderstood," Willow paused to take a deep breath, trying to keep herself from going into hysterics, or babbling, or crying.

"Knew 'bout vampires, but I had no idea that there were really werewolves," Callie whispered.

"Vampires and werewolves are just the tip of the iceberg," Willow sighed, "and the iceberg's made out of blood and bones."

"Tell you what, Willow. We'll help you find a good place to stay in N'Awlins, find you good teachers for what you need to know, an' you help teach my Tony how to not get eaten by those things. You help us not get eaten, an' we'll keep you from getting all swamped wit' the problems in life. Life can be too short not to have a bit of fun now an' again," Callie offered.

"That sounds pretty good, actually," Willow admitted.

Remy leaned over and hugged her, whispering, "Don' worry, Remy take good care of you. Callie be good people, she can help you find t'ings Remy not look for, pretty t'ings, an' some lessons. Trust Remy."

Willow leaned into his hug, savoring the feeling of being wrapped in someone's arms, of having someone tell her that everything would be okay, that she didn't have to take care of it alone. To have people offering to help make life fun… well, maybe not fun again, since she wasn't certain that life had ever been fun in Sunnydale, but to enjoy life, to live life.

In the back of her mind, Willow pondered the fact that she'd gone from having a little help from Giles, a member of a semi-secret, possibly illegal organization that studied demons, to help from Remy, a member of a semi-secret organization of thieves. Then again, things with Giles had gone from being warned about what was out there while helping look through books to looking things up over the internet while helping look through books, to being expected to handle things while having access to the books. How would things change with Remy's secret organization? Did they even know that he wanted to help her? Would they object? Or would they try to find some hold over her, to make certain she wouldn't talk?

Right now, she didn't care about any of that. She wasn't going to be alone. There would be people helping her find what she needed, to learn what she needed. That made everything better.

End Small Favor 15: Needing Balance.


	16. Promises for Tomorrow

sf16..sf16..sf16..sf16

She'd met Tony over dinner, which had been something strange and spicy and probably not kosher. Tony had been energetic and charming, but difficult to describe beyond brownish, average height and just a little plump. Tony had laughed, teasing Remy in French that Willow couldn't entirely follow. It had also been quite obvious to Willow that Tony and Callie were entirely sappy over each other.

Willow hadn't needed any translation to know that Tony was teasing Remy about having yet another girlfriend. She hadn't needed that teasing to know that Remy had a long and colorful dating history. All she had to do was watch Remy.

Tony had been sent in to help her set up her computer, watching with an amused smirk as he passed cords around the table.

"What'chou need a computer like dis for, hmm? Bit much for doing up papers for school an' keeping email," Tony offered.

"Lots of memory for researching, I can connect as fast as the location lets me..." Willow paused to connect the monitor into the tower.

"So what do you do wit' a fast connection?" Tony sounded much more serious now.

Willow peeked at him from beneath the table and grinned, "That depends on what I need to do that time. I can get my research, I can check my sources, and I have a lot of options."

"What sort of research are you normally doing?" Tony handed her another cord.

"Callie and Remy said you know about vampires. I've spent the last three years helping someone fight them. Research is generally checking the coroner's office for icky bodies, the police for matching disturbances, and helping get information on strange and icky things that need stopped," Willow didn't say the words 'demon' or 'apocalypse.'

"Most places have some sort of set up to keep people out of the police an' coroner's files," Tony commented.

"And if you give me about an hour, I'll have everything set up and I can check what sort of vampire activities we have in this area, and the information security of those while I'm at it... wait, there's multiple police and coroners in New Orleans. I'll start with local, and move outwards," Willow shifted to thinking out loud, habit trying to determine what it would take to check for vampire activity and possible risings here. New Orleans was a lot bigger than Sunnydale, after all.

Within the hour, Willow had her computer up and running. The connection was strong, but not as fast as she would have preferred - obviously, she'd have to be a little more careful. A faster connection would be something to look for when she found her own place... It was a bit disturbing to learn that the violent crime per capita wasn't that much different than Sunnydale, though there was a lot more theft-type crimes - cars, store break ins, home burglaries, office break ins... Remy had a juvenile record, but nothing that they could prove after eighteen, and his records insisted that he was currently twenty three. Tony had a less colorful juvenile record, but a few drunk and disorderly's and a breaking and entering in his adult record, along with a few traffic violations. Callie's record was clean.

Listening to habit and paranoia, Willow checked the two closest coroner's offices. There were only two bodies that sounded like vampire victims, and she didn't think either were likely to rise. One that might have been some sort of water demon... or maybe the official verdict of 'accidental encounter with boat propeller' could be accurate - and ick.

"What's de verdict on the local systems?" Tony asked.

"You need someone to pull you out of the bar and get you home before you get into fights, and there seem to be a lot fewer vampires per capita here than back home," Willow moved on to look at a third coroner's office, this one closer to the river.

"Why would you say something like that?" Tony moved closer, "Are you supposed to be able to look at that?"

"I suggest someone taking you out of the bar based on your police record, and if they don't want people to see their data, they should protect it better," Willow countered.

"Maybe you a lot closer to our line of work den I thought..."

"You and Remy tend to do a lot more physical stuff. More with the sneaking into buildings and running away from guard dogs. Though Callie was suggesting I find a good martial arts instructor. Getting into better shape's a good idea, since there's all sorts of nasty monsters, and maybe even bad people," Willow paused, remembering some of the things that she'd learned from all her time checking coroner's files. "An awful lot of the dead bodies got that way because of humans, not vampires, not wild animals, not accidents."

"True enough," Tony admitted. "So, what did you do before you came to N'Awlins?"

"College student. Though I'm looking for a part time job in a New Age shop or organic food if I decide to stay in the area," Willow answered.

"Bit of difference there," Tony smirked.

"Nope. I'm good with computers, I haven't had anything more than basic prerequisites for college, but I had a part time job at a magic shop back home and picked up some things. Scented oils and home remedies, mostly, but both of those places would have the sort of contacts to get the right ingredients at less than the cost over the counter," Willow explained. Her words were true, but left out the whole part about magic being real and her studying that as well as college. Tony and Callie seemed nice, but spilling that sort of information could wait until she'd known them longer.

"These home remedies any good?" Tony asked.

"Pretty good, but I don't have remedies for everything," Willow could feel herself blushing. "I've got some really good ones for scrapes, bruises, and sore muscles. The sort of things you run into a lot running away from vampires. And yeah, there's one to help recover from blood loss faster, but it tastes sort of nasty."

"Don' worry too much. Remy an' me gonna find you a good teacher, find you a good place to stay," Tony winked at her, "Remy might try to convince you a nice place for two be the way to go, hmmm?"

Willow's blush had to be rivaling her hair, "It might be a bit early for that."

"A bit early not de same as saying not interested," Tony observed with a smirk.

Willow decided not to get into any sort of argument over whether or not she liked Remy like that. The fact that he'd managed to talk her into coming to New Orleans sort of gave it away that she did. "I think I'd like to get info about colleges and universities instead of talking about my rather unimpressive love life. Looking at the phone book was enough to tell me there's a lot of options for jobs, even if I keep to those two areas. I might need to pick up a lot more about New Orleans history and local legends, but that's not a bad thing anyhow."

"Bet we can get Remy to show you around. Maybe catch dinner near the University?" Tony teased.

Willow gathered together what dignity she could and suggested, "I think Remy's more than capable of asking me out on his own, if he wants. He's done it before. Though I'm not sure going with him to dinner is supposed to be hazard pay."

"Not unless the person hiring be very interesting," Tony agreed.

"You be talkin' about Remy behind his back?" Remy's voice called from the front room. "Not very nice, Tony. Remy thought we be friends."

"And that's why I know better than to believe that your feelings were hurt by that," Tony grinned.

"I was just mentioning that it might be a good idea to check out the local universities and colleges, if I might be staying," Willow explained. She didn't want to suggest that Remy take her out for dinner, she wanted Remy to want to take her to dinner. She wanted him to want to spend time with her even now that he was back home with all the possible diversions and acquaintances that would be here.

"Ah, but Tony be a married man, he don' need to be showin' you around, belle Willow. Let Remy show you the colleges an' universities instead. We end up out late enough, I show you a couple good places to eat," Remy grinned at her, his red eyes gleaming.

"You are a shameless flirt, and that sounds wonderful," Willow smiled back at him.

"Don' worry, Remy find you de perfect school. Den it's jus' a matter of findin' you de perfect place to live so Callie get the spare room back, an' life be good for you in N'Awlins. Much better den Sunnydale," Remy moved closer, reaching out to take her hand as he promised things would be better. "T'ings be so wonderful that you never want to leave us."

As Willow looked into his eyes, she thought that he just might be right. "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing. Sunnydale wasn't a great place, but it was small enough that it wasn't too hard to find things. New Orleans is a lot bigger… hopefully better. It looks safer, at least."

"You won't have to go t'rough life alone, Willow. Callie's taken a liking to you, Remy seems pretty impressed, an' you seem like a nice kid," Tony offered with a smile. "An' Callie said you can help me not get eaten by vampires an' the stranger things."

As Willow smiled at them, savoring the feeling of Remy's hand holding her own, she felt just a little twinge of guilt that things seemed so much better and more promising here than it had felt a few months ago to start college with Buffy. But that twinge of guilt was followed by one of anger that Remy and his friends were offering the support that Giles and Buffy should have offered, that it took associating with thieves and criminals to be given the training and support to survive fighting demons and vampires.

"Talked to mon frère Henri 'bout getting you some lessons in fighting. Henri say he talk to de in-laws an' find someone to teach you. Gonna have to introduce you to Henri an' his wife Belladonna some day, if Remy convince you to stay wit' us here in N'Awlins," Remy murmured.

"I think I'd like to meet your family," Willow whispered. Meeting Remy's family would normally be a sign that things between them meant something, that he wasn't just flirting and charming out of habit, but a sign that he meant it, that she mattered to him. That he cared. That they might have a future together. "So, what does your brother and his wife do for a living? Is Henri in the same line of work as you and Tony?"

"Henri is, but Belladonna… she not in quite de same line of work. It's complicated, Remy explain it later," he flashed another charming smile, and raised her hand to place a kiss on her fingers. "Remy sure dey be pleased to meet you."

End Small Favor 16: Promises for Tomorrow.


	17. So Far Away

Author: Lucinda

Rated t for teen

seventeenth in the 'Small Favor' series

Disclaimer: anyone you recognize does not belong to me, Willow belongs to Joss Whedon, Remy belongs to Marvel Comics. Callie and Tony are mine.

Distribution: archived at , permission given to Mental Wanderings, Luba, Twisting, PEJA, NHA, WLS, Bite Me - anyone else please ask. If you have permission for an earlier "Small Favor" then you still have permission. Previous parts may be found at .org/Story-582/Lucinda+A+Small+ or .net/s/1265087/1/A_Small_Favor or ?sid=217

Notes: set in a slightly altered s4 BtVS, AU for Marvel in that Remy never joined the X-Men.

sf17..sf17..sf17..sf17

Willow was starting to think that not only was leaving Sunnydale the best thing that she'd ever done, but that New Orleans could become home. Callie was helping her learn where all the good shops were, and Remy kept showing her around on various dates and sometimes just to spend time together. Not only that, but she'd been hired for a part time job at a shop. She'd probably be doing a lot of unpacking, and stocking shelves, but it was a job, and unpacking boxes would be one way to learn where they ordered things from. Tony and Remy both kept charming her into telling stories about some of the vampires and demons that she knew of causing problems in Sunndyale and how they were defeated. She'd talked more about herself and her hometown than she'd ever expected to mention.

"That charm of theirs is dangerous," Willow decided.

Callie only laughed, "Don't I know it! How d' you t'ink Tony talked me into marrying him? I was fair certain it was a bad idea, he'd be in trouble for de rest of his life..."

"Which doesn't sound that far off," Willow murmured, "And with Remy right in there with him."

"An' I married Tony anyhow. Trouble or no, he's mine," Callie smiled, clearly quite pleased with Tony, even if he was trouble. "You planning on keeping Remy?"

"Planning might be a bit hasty, though the idea is pretty tempting," Willow admitted.

Callie laughed, "Some of these boys, that's enough. Make you like the idea, an' the next t'ing you know, you can't figure out how to live wit'out them."

"Maybe. You might be surprised what you can get used to, if you have to," Willow mumbled, her mind spinning with ideas about a future with Remy. A nice home, a couple red haired children, possibly with his eyes, a pot of gumbo bubbling in the kitchen...

"Tony an' Remy planned an evening out for us tonight. You just might have a Cajun in your future," Callie grinned. "Seafood fresh from de boats today, maybe a little dancing... Tonight will be fun."

"Bonjour, belle femmes," Tony called. "We got some good news, an' reservations for dinner."

"So what's the good news?" Willow asked.

"Talked to one o' de people who teaches us how to fight. She agree to give you some lessons," Remy grinned at her before adding, "She say we can figure out when you get de lessons around anyt'ing else you need to be doing. Like jobs, but yours going t' be on more of a schedule den ours."

"Goodie, but I don't know my schedule yet. Bayou Moon called back and I've got a part time job," Willow beamed at them.

"T'ink dey be askin' for de most you can do?" Remy arched an eyebrow at her.

"I really doubt that. I'm figuring that I'll probably be unpacking boxes, putting things on shelves, ordering more boxes… maybe standing at the cash register. Which means not very challenging, but I should be able to learn where they order things from."

"What good would dat be?" Tony asked.

"When I know where they order their stuff, I can order stuff from there as well. Besides, if they don't challenge me with mixing things up, I can maybe do a little freelance work. I've got great stuff for bruises, and for scrapes," Willow didn't mention the potion that Remy had originally asked her to make when they'd first talked over the telephone.

"Might be a lot of call for dat once de word gets out," Remy murmured.

"A teacher to help me in those areas wouldn't be a bad thing either," Willow admitted. "Giles skipped over a lot of the basics, or maybe he thought I'd picked them up from Amy. Except that Amy and I never really talked that much except about school, and then she… well, there was an accident, and she hasn't been able to teach me much of anything."

"I thought Amy was the name of dat rat in a cage," Callie frowned. "Did this girl do something to make you mad at her?"

"No, I just hadn't got to that Sunnydale story yet. I'm sure that you've read about Hansel and Gretel, right? Like a lot of things, it turns out that there's a bit of history there, but it got twisted up all wrong and the reality is completely different and uglier. See, you hear about a pair of cute little kids that ended up somewhere that they shouldn't have been wandering alone, like a forest, or a marsh, or the Hellmouth…"

"An' den a wicked witch tries to eat de poor kids, de witch gets killed, de children go on to live happily ever after. We all know de story," Tony shook his head.

"De little ones be killed?" Remy asked.

"Close but not quite. It happened in Sunndyale. Our first clue that something was wrong was a pair of kids found dead on a playground… except that nobody knew who they were. So we started checking the papers, the internet… Nobody'd seen those kids alive," Willow paused to swallow before she gave the more disturbing result of her computer searches. "But they'd been seen dead all over the place. About every thirty years, the pair of them turned up somewhere – already dead – and then there would be some sort of witch hunt, some people would be killed, and then everybody would go on, like nothing had happened. We found reports that we think were the same tragic dead children back to the sixteen hundreds."

"But… how?"

"Turns out that instead of a pair of cute and murdered children, it was one big ugly demon. A shape-shifting demon that liked to stir up trouble. Bt when you have bodies that look like murdered children, lots of people get very upset, and some parents started a group to oppose magic and witchcraft, since there were strange symbols on the bodies." Willow explained.

"What sort of symbols?" Tony whispered.

"The sort that look scary and ominous. They didn't actually make any sense, and there were some that were Greek, and Celtic, and a couple Sumerian, and one that might have been Etruscan. But they didn't go together, didn't even have a sort of maybe meaning like grabbing random translations. Just… oooh, this looks witchy, let's get all worked up."

"Did it work?" Remy's voice was low.

"Within a week, there were not so random locker searches and people trying to track down who had signed out certain library books. By the end of the second week, there was an angry mob… I still don't know how they managed to set up the stakes inside City Hall…" Willow didn't want to talk about the worst of it. How her mother and Buffy's mother had been the ringleaders of the angry mob.

How her own mother had drugged her with something that smelled like rotten fruit and knocked her out. Or the way that she'd drifted back to consciousness to the scent of gasoline and paper, with ropes digging into her wrists. The way that she'd felt so betrayed by her mother, the way that she'd dragged her to the stake, had been talking to Joyce Summers as if this was nothing, as if they weren't planning to burn their daughters at stakes in the middle of City Hall. Or how her mother didn't remember anything the next time she was home, or so she claimed.

"Stakes… as in, burning at?" The horrified whisper was completely free of the normal Cajun charm.

"Yes. Amy managed to turn herself into a rat, and then she wasn't tied up anymore," Willow didn't want to mention who else was tied to a stake. She hoped that they wouldn't ask.

"So de rat in de cage is your friend Amy? Why is she still a rat?" Callie asked.

"Our best guess was that she'd need to talk to reverse the spell, which she can't do as a rat. I've tried a few things, but… well, she's still a rat, so that tells you all you need to know about those efforts," Willow sighed.

"Maybe she's happier as a rat den she was as a girl," Tony suggested. "Hang out all day, no school, no need for a job… Don' sound dat bad."

"Jus' spending all day everyday in a wire cage… Sounds a bit like prison t' me," Callie countered.

"Which is why we've been trying to reverse it. Now it's mostly me trying, and not having much luck, but I don't think Amy would want to live the rest of her life as a rat in a cage, and I don't even know how long that rest of her life would even be," Willow tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, trying not to let herself get too frustrated over this again.

"Ehhh? What about how long she live?" Remy asked.

"Rats only live about three years. I know that humans live a lot longer, but I don't know if being turned into a rat would change her lifespan along with her shape," Willow explained. Maybe there would be some magic users in New Orleans that could help her de-rat Amy, if she could find them, if they were people that she could trust.

She was just glad that the topic had moved to Amy and her rodent-hood rather than near-burnings at the stake. She had enough reasons for bad dreams without bringing up the ones that she'd managed to quiet down. No more nightmares about witch-hunts or boiler-rooms for her…

They were almost at the seafood place when Remy gave Willow an look that came close to a glare, demanding, "You said dere were stakes inside de City hall. Not one for Amy, more den one. What happened to de ot'er people?"

"Giles and someone else managed to do up something that stripped away the illusion shape-shifty thing that the demon was doing to look like the little kids. Then B… one of the people that the mob was trying to burn managed to get less confined and kill the demon before the fire could get too big. Nine foot demons are pretty big targets, and a stake through the chest works on more than vampires," Willow hoped that he wouldn't ask. That they'd believe that there had been two stakes, two near-victims.

"What happened after dat?" Tony scratched at his head, "and how could people just… isn't burning people at de stake illegal now?"

"We caught Amy and put her in a cage, so she'd be safe from hawks and cats and stuff, and… The mob just… forgot or repressed or something, and none of them seemed to remember anything. We thought it was pretty sad that on the Hellmouth, you can't even trust a dead kid to really be a dead kid," Willow shrugged. "I mean, not that a dead kid would be a good thing, but…"

"What in God's name is a Hellmouth?" Tony blinked.

"Nothing to discuss over dinner. I can give you the speech and the details later, tonight if you aren't worried about bad dreams, tomorrow if you prefer," Willow looked at Tony, hoping that her Resolve Face would work on charming Cajuns as easily as it had worked on Xander and Jesse.

"Tomorrow," Remy agreed.

Dinner was fabulous. Fresh seafood, plenty of spices, and friendly company made for a wonderful lingering dinner. Willow even indulged herself in a chocolate layer cake for desert after the wonderful meal. They lingered over their last coffee and the deserts, with Callie and Tony sharing something that involved ice cream, crushed pecans and cinnamon, and a brownie.

After diner, they ended up in this little club with a live band. Willow thought that the woman singing reminded her an awful lot of Kendra, only a bit older and not dead. That was probably a coincidence, or just not being close enough to get a clear look at the singer. Leaning against Remy as they danced was a lot more enjoyable anyhow.

After a long, wonderful evening, they made it back to the house, though Remy had gone his separate way. Willow didn't feel so stuffed after the large dinner, but now her feet hurt from the dancing. Despite the sore feet, the evening had been fun. As she got ready for bed, she noticed that her cell phone had a voice mail.

Letting the message play, she heard "Message from four oh eight five five five seven one three nine at seven thirty two pea emm. 'Hey, Willow, there's no need to still be mad about your non-social life. Your grades are fine – you've got a great brain. Anyhow, you can stop avoiding me any time now. If I can pry you away from your parents' house or the library, maybe we can hang out and have a mocha or something. Call me.' To save this message, press…"

"Buffy… has no idea that I'm not in Sunndyale," she whispered. "I've been here almost two weeks and she hasn't figured out that I'm not there, not even in the same state…"

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry over that. That was without even touching the idea that a mocha could fix what had happened, fix the foisting of patrols and magical tasks and disposal of artifacts. Fix the absent minded assurance that Willow was fine, Willow wouldn't want to go have fun, wouldn't have a life outside of studying and slaying. Gloss over the way that she was the only one without a patrol-date, or the fact that they had been assuming that she wouldn't ever have previous plans that they might disrupt…

There was no need for monsters or demonic portals to give her ugly dreams that night.

End Small Favor 17: So Far Away.


	18. Signs and Worries

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When Willow woke up the next day, she grabbed her dream journal to write down the confused and chaotic images that had been spawned after the voice mail from Buffy. As she was jotting down some of the images, she heard furious squeaking from the cage. "Poor Amy..."

Wait. Amy... rat Amy. Willow flipped back, reading over the nightmare about melting bodies and fur and giant blocks of cheese from when she'd last attempted to fix Amy. Saw the notations about Amy studying with Giles and Anya after being de-ratted, about the way that Amy was getting along so wonderfully with Anya and seemed so interested in the old Norse pantheon. Her frustrations and jealousy that Amy was getting training when she wasn't.

There was a rat in the cage. The rat looked just like rat-Amy. But if Amy was still a rat in a cage, then who or what was back in Sunnydale, taking magic lessons and laughing about the old Norse gods? It made no sense... unless something weird and possibly Hellmouthy was going on.

"This can't be good. But how do I find out what's really going on? Is this the real Amy, or is the person back in Sunnydale the real Amy? And how can there be two of them anyhow?" Willow frowned as she stared at the rat that might be Amy.

She didn't have enough information to find a solution on her own. Of course, the usual way to get more information... "I can't call Giles and ask him. He's too close to the human looking Amy, if that's really Amy. I can start looking online for things about doubles, identity theft... no, that'll take me to a mess about credit ratings and data protection. Completely not the right sort of identity theft. I need a Watcher, and maybe some other witches..."

Feeding the rat some pellets, Willow sighed. Maybe she'd have a place to start after a shower and some coffee.

A shower, clean clothing instead of the old tee-shirt she was sleeping in left Willow in better shape to think about the situation. Giles wasn't the only Watcher, or even the only one that she knew. Wesley was working with Angel in LA. There were probably a couple in New Orleans, and while she could probably hack the Council's database to find their locations, she would have no way to prove that she wasn't a danger. It might be a good idea to find out who they were anyhow, but that would be a project for later. She'd give Angel Investigations a call after she went to Bayou Moon for her new job paperwork.

In the meanwhile, maybe Remy or Callie could help her find someone local to talk to about magic. That might even be a good way to talk to a possible teacher, if she asked for help with a problem. Not that she wanted to benefit from Amy's trouble, but it would be something better than 'so you're into magic, huh?'

"You look like something's bothering you, Willow. Maybe talkin' about it would help?" Callie asked, pouring Willow a cup of coffee.

Willow took a sip of the coffee, wincing at the heat before she answered, "Last night we were talking about Sunnydale, and Amy the rat, and then... well, I had weird dreams. This morning when I started writing them in my dream journal, I realized that there's something not right about... well, one possibility is that somebody's tampering with my memory. The others involve doubles, identity confusion, and probably some strong magic. Maybe demons, it did start over the Hellmouth. But something's definitely not right, and I don't know enough to fix it by myself."

"How bad could it be?" Callie's knuckles were pale as she gripped her own cup of coffee.

"Not that I really want anybody messing with my memories, but if that's the extent of what's going on then it probably isn't part of a plot to end the world, so only a little bad, in the big picture. But if there's really a second Amy, then how and why? And if it's an imposter Amy, then… that would be a really effective way to get in close to Buffy, and that could be… very, very bad," Willow didn't like the idea of some demon or evil imposter that close to Buffy. They trusted 'Amy', or whoever it was that looked like Amy. She could hurt Buffy, or give them bad information, or magic… and if it wasn't really Amy, then did she need those lessons from Giles and Anya?

"I'll talk to Tony an' Remy while you go do your paperwork for your new job. Those two will come up with something," Callie promised.

"Okay, and when I get back, I can call Wesley. He's a sort of friend in LA, and it's his job to know all sorts of important and icky facts about the demons and that sort of thing," Willow sighed. This wasn't the best way to start her day, but thankfully, today would be paperwork and the quickie tour, not her first day of actual work. She just hoped that they could find some answers.

It was three hours before Willow made it back to Callie's house, feeling grateful that Giles had never made her fill out that much paperwork for her part time hours at the Magic Box. She'd had to explain that she didn't have a permanent address yet, as she'd only recently moved from California. Then, of course, they'd wanted to know why she'd left California to move to New Orleans, and she'd stammered and blushed before admitting that there was a guy that she'd met…

Remy was sitting on the recliner, with Tony and Callie curled together on the couch. Looking at her, Remy waved towards a cup of coffee, "You agreed to tell us 'bout de Hellmouth today."

"That's another reason that today won't be fun. I did promise to tell you about it, but it won't be anything pretty," Willow looked at them to make sure they understood how serious this was. Or that they were at least taking it a little seriously, they wouldn't be able to take it seriously enough until they knew just how bad it really was.

"Is this really as bad as it sounds? Some sort of big mouth to… to hell?" Callie spoke first.

"Remy be guessin' dat's why so many vampires back in Sunnydale," Remy gave her a look, one that Willow thought was meant to encourage her to confirm or deny his guess.

"I was told that a Hellmouth is a… not quite a portal, but a thin place between dimensions. That it puts out a lot of negative mystical energy, and sort of attracts demons, and vampires, and strange, scary, bad things. Snakes turn up in the pipes, sometimes a lot of them. There was a rain of fish when I was twelve, and there was one of frogs when I was three. My mother blamed that for my frog-phobia…" Willow shook her head, not wanting to dwell on her mother or her personal fears.

"A thin place… separating our world from somewhere very bad?" Tony looked thoughtful. "Is it really… Hell like you hear about at church, or just somewhere very unwelcoming?"

"Jewish here, I don't know much about what you'd hear at any particular church. Giles always explained it as a thin place, and that if it opened – which was to be avoided – then it would go to what he called a hell dimension. Not the, but a, which kind of tells me that there's several unwelcome other dimensions. And the scary things that live there and sometimes come here get called demons, but I don't know if they're the same as the demons mentioned in the Torah or the Bible. If it starts to open, then there's this awful thing that looks like a big mouth with these tentacles with teeth… it's really scary and strong," Willow shivered, remembering that awful fight.

"Scary bad things… other than snakes in the plumbing, and raining fish and frogs?" Callie prompted.

"It encourages people to explain things away. To find any answer other than demons or vampires or magic, and maybe forget if they can't explain that growling as a wild animal in the bushes, or that really strong guy as a gang member on PCP. The coroner's office declares a lot of people to have died due to exsanguination after falling onto a barbeque fork, instead of saying that a vampire killed them. Belief becomes really powerful there, and it can lead to strange things, like a girl turning invisible, or nightmares turning real, or that awful Halloween. And people don't panic that there's an obituary section in the school paper, or that some stores have their closing listed as 'sunset' or that there's sixty two churches in a town of only twenty five thousand," Willow sipped at the coffee and looked at them. "It makes magic harder and more dangerous. It draws in demons and vampires, and makes them go all arrogant and more violent and crazy. Then some of them start to think it would be good to kick start an apocalypse… do you have any idea on the grammatically correct plural of apocalypse? We've been debating that one for a couple years now."

"None of dat sounds good," Tony sighed, shaking his head. "So how's dat connect to you looking at information on your computer dat supposed to be private an' inaccessible?"

"That started because I was bored, and then it became a lot more practical when I learned about what really goes on back in Sunnydale," Willow admitted.

"Tonight you come to dinner wit' my family. Remy want to introduce you to my papa, an' Henri an' his wife. Maybe Isabel be there… she's de one who agreed to teach you. If Remy can arrange it, maybe Tante Mattie be there. Remy pretty sure if anybody be messin' wit' your memories, Tante Mattie be able to tell, and den we can get it fixed," Remy smiled at her. "Family's been lookin' forward to meetin' you, belle Willow."

Willow blinked, feeling nervous. Explaining the Hellmouth, while unpleasant, was something she could handle. Filling out paperwork was a lot of writing, and ended up including some teasing about her following a local boy here from sunny California. But dinner with Remy's family? She'd felt less nervous before fighting a vampire.

"I need to call someone about a possible magic or demon related problem, and then I'll have some questions for you about what to expect at this dinner, Remy. You can let the ugly truth sink in, and maybe ask Remy about what he saw when he visited Sunnydale," Willow made her way to what had become her room. It was late enough that there shouldn't be problems with calling Los Angeles, and it was past time to admit to them that she'd left Sunnydale.

Retreating to her room, Willow peered at the wire cage. Still a brown rat, still matching her memories of rat-Amy. Shaking her head, she called the number for Angel Investigations. "Come on, pick up the phone…"

:Angel Investigations, what seems to be the problem?: Wesley's voice had the hint of fluster that suggested either he still didn't like taking phone calls for their investigations, or there was some sort of problem back in LA… well, of course there'd be problems.

"Hey Wesley. Umm… I've got a problem, and I'm not sure how big it is. Right now, I'm looking at a brown rat that I think is Amy. Except that I also remember unratting Amy, who was getting magic lessons from Giles and Anya," Willow offered.

:So some sort of memory manipulation, or perhaps an imposter Amy… Why would someone want to impersonate Miss Madison?: Wesley sounded a bit distracted.

"On the one hand, she's apparently from a family line of witches. But the first thing that came to mind was that whoever the Amy back in Sunndyale is, she's getting along really well with Giles, Anya, and particularly Buffy. Plenty of reasons why someone might want to get in good graces with Buffy," Willow explained.

:Very true. But why are you asking for my help instead of Mr. Giles? Or you could just refer to his books…:

"No, I can't. First off, I'm not in Sunnydale anymore. I moved to New Orleans a couple weeks ago. Evil isn't only over the Hellmouth, so it isn't like I'm abandoning the fight. Second, Giles is awfully close to the Amy in Sunnydale, he might not see or want to see anything off…. If there is something off there. I don't know if it's just me. I need to figure out what's happening, and if it's just me or if it's some sort of bigger plot," Willow sniffled, before whispering, "There was a voice mail from Buffy last night. They haven't figured out that I'm not in Sunnydale. I really, really want that to be a sign of something wrong, and not that I just don't matter that much to them."

:Oh dear… I can see your point. I have some books dealing with mind manipulation, I'll see if I can find a way to check if your memories or perceptions have been tampered with. We can also check Sunnydale to see what they have to say about the group, if they also remember and see an Amy in their midst. That could help us narrow down what is happening,: Wesley paused before adding, :For once, I find myself hoping that there is some sort of plot.:

"Things are sad when we're hoping for an evil plot," Willow tapped the cage, "So, rat that might be Amy, we're going to get this sorted out."

:I'll either call back or send you an e-mail when I find a good way for you to check yourself for memory tampering, or have someone check for you. Between all of us here, we can either find or create a plausible sounding maybe-threat to Sunnydale to necessitate a call warning them to investigate, and then they will call upon those who have familiarity with magic. Once we know if they think they have an Amy Madison helping them… Well, once we know what is going on, we can deal with it properly,: Wesley finished.

"Thanks, Wesley," Willow said. Placing the phone on her computer desk, Willow sighed, "This whole situation is just not right. Here I am hoping some force of not-good is manipulating my friends…"

Willow's mind went back to thinking about meeting Remy's family tonight, over dinner. She still didn't speak much French, though she'd picked up a few more words over the past couple weeks. What if they didn't approve of her? What if they'd rather Remy date some girl from their not quite secret Guild of Thieves? Oh dear… Remy didn't seem to be worried at all. Then again, why should he worry about seeing his own family?

Willow took time in her preparations. Some of it was fretting over what to wear, how formal, how colorful? She worried about what to do with her hair. She even found herself worrying about weapons. In the end, she settled on a long green skirt with tiny gold stripes, with a white blouse, the same little gold hoops that she'd worn on her first date with Remy, and her hair up, held in place by wooden skewers that could be used to impale a vampire in a crisis. A spritz of Holy Water laced with a subtle rose perfume – some testing with Buffy had proven that perfume into Holy Water didn't remove the vampire-deterring ability, though essential oils went further than the normal spray perfumes. She dropped a few vials of the lightly scented Holy Water into her little purse, along with her cell-phone, and went to meet Remy. She was as ready as she was going to get.

"Belle Willow…" Remy smiled at her.

Her confidence faltered a bit as Remy drove them to a lovely old plantation house outside of the city. The whole place was shrouded in old secrets, in history… and she didn't feel like she belonged. There were expensive looking cars, and a few big, impressive looking motorcycles.

She felt nervous as they walked inside. There were lovely paintings and bits of art, and comfortable looking furniture. Remy held her hand, and pointed at one of the paintings, "Henri stole dat one from a Baron in Europe. T'ink he give it to Belladonna as a wedding present."

Willow blinked at him, "Is Belladonna likely to get upset that he stole her present?"

"Non, Belladonna knows we be thieves. She more likely to be offended if he didn't steal her a present now an' den," Remy grinned at her.

"Okay…" Willow murmured. She didn't want to say anything, but it was sounding like Remy's family were a bit odd. Then again, he was apparently part of a family of thieves, and she'd spent the last three and a half years helping fight vampires and demons, so she didn't have much room to call someone else weird. Then it occurred to her that Remy had said that Belladonna wasn't a thief, but he'd seemed oddly reluctant to say what it was that she actually did…

Remy led her to a sitting room, where several people were already gathered. There was a brown haired man, looking about the same age as Giles, seated in a large chair, with a dark wooden cane near him. Willow recognized him from a few pictures that Remy had showed her, calling that man 'Jean-Luc, my papa.' Another chair held a black woman, half concealed by an amber colored shawl, with large golden earrings and several necklaces with small charms dangling. There was also a small couch with another man, with a shaven head and a brown mustache, his arm around a lovely woman with many tiny blond braids that fell to the bottom of her shoulder blades, clad in a purple dress.

Willow guessed that the blond must be Belladonna, which should make the bald man Henri, Remy's brother. The unsettling thing was that Belladonna reminded her of a successful blending of Buffy and Kendra. Even to the fact that she had a knife strapped to her leg. Willow was almost certain that Belladonna wasn't a Slayer, but still "Remy, you never did tell me exactly what Belladonna does."

Jean-Luc smiled at Willow and Remy, "Do sit down and make yourselves comfortable. We've been looking forward to meeting you, Willow."

"Remy's had good things to say about you," Henri had a different accent than Remy, one that favored the French more than the Cajun.

"What do you think I do, Willow?" Belladonna looked at her, her expression only showing curiosity.

Looking at the blonde, Willow suspected that either this was some sort of test, or the woman was just putting a polite mask over dislike. Considering that Belladonna was the wife of a thief and the thieves had managed to find all sorts of knowledge, she decided to go ahead and admit it. "My first thought, between the muscle tone, the way you hold yourself, and the knife on your thigh, was that you remind me of a Slayer. But I know you aren't a Slayer. Remy said you weren't a thief."

"My Bella is a lovely assassin," Henri smiled at his wife.

"Most people don't know about Slayers. Makes it easier to pretend that there aren't monsters out in the night," the other woman, whom Willow guessed to be Tante Mattie, observed.

Willow sighed, "Sunnydale's home for the Hellmouth, and we've had a Slayer for the past three and a half years. Belladonna reminds me of two of them."

"If we could have one of them in our Guild…" Belladonna murmured. "Or even if we could figure out how they do it."

"Mystically empowered, terrible retirement plan," Willow replied.

"It usually is," Belladonna nodded.

Willow felt oddly reassured, perhaps because the woman reminded her so much of a Slayer. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

End Small Favor 18: Signs and Worries


	19. Considering Needs

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The evening with Remy's family was starting well, as near as Willow could interpret. She figured that knowing about Slayers had scored her some brownie points, as had not looking afraid or freaking out that Belladonna was an assassin. It might help that Remy had apparently said good things about her, or it might make them cautious, wanting to see if she really measured up to those good things that he'd been saying.

"Do you speak very much French, Willow?" the soft question came from Henri.

With a smile, Willow shook her head, "I can recognize it, and pick out some of the words if it's written, but I'm definitely not up to speaking the language. I've picked up some words here and there, but knowing a few words isn't knowing the language."

"I thought taking a bit of another language was required in schools," Jean-Luc murmured.

"I took some Latin, and I'm passable but not quite fluent in Spanish and Yiddish, and I can make myself understood in German. I've also picked up a few key words for helping sort through prophecies. I can identify the words for danger, demon, dismember, and poison in about six other dead languages. But I can't ask for directions or coffee," Willow shrugged.

"A fair point that French isn't the only option," Jean-Luc looked amused.

"You've been helping research for a Slayer?" Tante Mattie asked, changing the topic from language studies.

"I was almost eaten by a vampire, and then there were some other problems at the school. Things that kind of blew repressing it all away right out the window," Willow admitted. "I couldn't forget, and I didn't want to just do nothing, so..."

"You don't move like a properly trained fighter," Belladonna commented.

"I know, and I'm planning to take some lessons to get better. Just because I'm not a Slayer doesn't mean I need to stay helpless and bait-like," Willow stopped herself from reaching for the hair skewer, and sighed. She really hoped that she'd stayed untrained as some sort of oversight or attempted protection, and not so that Buffy could use her as bait for vampires. But there had been so many that had tried to attack on patrols...

"Remy speaks highly of your magical ability," Henri countered. "Surely skill with magic means you wouldn't need to fight?"

"First, a lot of magic takes time and preparation, two things you normally don't get when some nasty thing decides you look like dinner. Second, some of them are really hard to hurt with magic. Third, that would be a real over-reaction to a dumb jock who had too much to drink, and it could be hard to explain if someone noticed. Fourth, there are ways to block magic, and I really don't think I'm the only one to have heard of those ways," Willow shook her head.

"There are too many reasons to know how to fight without magic. And it's always better to have a skill that you didn't need to use than to need it and not know it," Willow looked at them.

"Sensible answers," Tante Mattie murmured.

"I told you that magic users could be killed just as easily," Belladonna whispered to Henri, looking smug.

"But magical defenses and protections..." Henri protested.

"Are normally on your home, your safe places. Maybe on your things to keep people from messing with them. Not at the coffee shop, or between your office and the car in the parking lot, or on the bus. Not down the hall of the school. And every protection that you cast takes time, takes the things that you use in your casting, takes energy. All those things run out," Willow remembered the terror when Angelus had grabbed her in the hallway, their efforts to find defenses when he'd gone evil. Remembered the scary voice stealing demons attacking in the dorms.

"So what else would someone need to know before facing a magic user?" Jean-Luc had a thin smile.

"Like anything else, most people have a specialty. If you know what they're good at, you might be able to prepare. And there's a lot of healing spells, if you can get the right ingredients. Memory altering spells, if they know someone might be after them. Depending on their ethics, there are rituals and potions to make them stronger," Willow sighed. "Magic can do a lot, if you know how, if you can get the stuff, and if you're willing to pay the cost. And the cost is normally not money."

"Miserable technomage in California putting spirits in robot dogs to attack poor t'ieves," Remy muttered, rubbing at his arm.

"And the advantage of potions?" Jean-Luc murmured, glancing at Remy before adding, "What was that about spirit possessed robot dogs?"

"For potions, you normally don't have to use as much energy, and most of them don't have the icky stuff," Willow paused, remembering Buffy's encounter with the mind-reading demons. "Not always, there are still potions with some really icky things. And they normally don't exhaust you as much as a ritual or a quick spell."

"And of course, someone else can use a potion, or it can be used later," Belladonna had a wicked grin. "By chance do you know someone who could make Shadow's Bane, or the Kiss of Innani?"

Willow thought about those, thinking that the first was a poison. Had that been what Faith had used on Angel? The second was definitely a lust potion... "Love or even lust potions can be tricky. And the only reference to that one that I saw didn't have a list of ingredients. And while I read a bit about the effects of the poison, effects aren't enough to tell me how it's made."

"The problems that our Guilds run into is that without someone with the right skills, the recipes are useless to us," Belladonna sighed, leaning against Henri.

"So there's a separate Guild for assassins," Willow murmured, looking at Belladonna and Henri. "Would it be terribly rude to ask if your Guilds get along?"

Considering the way everyone else started to laugh, including Remy, Willow decided that it was probably Not Done. And that the Guilds probably didn't get along that well. And that there were probably many stories about them not getting along well that could be considered blackmail if the people were still alive. Stories that she probably wasn't in a good position to ask about yet.

The conversation drifted to New Orleans history. There were some interesting, possibly completely made up, stories about influential people from a century ago. Some of the stories involved improbable things being stolen, Henri telling her all about how one wealthy land-owner had returned home from a ball to discover that his entire bedroom had been stolen - every stitch of clothing, every stick of furniture, his grooming items, even his wig! Belladonna had laughed and countered with one about a man being drowned in his bath when he wouldn't let his manservant attend a wedding.

Tante Mattie tugged at Willow's elbow as they were heading into another room for dinner. "Child, who's been meddlin' with your mind? Things have been smudged over like a drunken artist."

For a moment, Willow hoped that this meant the whole second Amy mess wasn't real. But then, she doubted that anyone would mess with her mind and memories just for kicks, which meant... "I'm not sure who, but I'm pretty sure where. I can guess about why, but I might be wrong about that."

"Where an' why?" Tante Mattie's eyes were darkened with guilt and time, reminding her very much of Angel's eyes, when he was all soulful and guilty, but not brooding too much.

For a moment, Willow found herself wondering when and how the Thieves Guild had learned about the Potion of Al'Hamir. Surely Tante Mattie had seen many more years than her face suggested to get eyes that looked so old. "Where is on the Hellmouth. Why is probably to get close to Buffy, the current Slayer."

"Meddle wit' memories and you won' remember that they shouldn't be dere," Tante Mattie murmured. "Clever."

"I think someone took the identity of another witch. She managed to turn herself into a rat, and... I've been trying to unrat her. Someone's using her name and face back in Sunnydale, but I've still got a rat that answers to Amy with me. Something isn't right with that," Willow shook her head.

"Are you sure it isn't more personal?" Tante Mattie arched one eyebrow.

"I..." Willow paused, remembering Tara. Tara that she'd met at the Wiccan meeting, Tara who'd helped her learn new spells. Tara who'd had a whole chest of magic things that she never let Willow look through. Tara that had been using her to keep the Slayer from being a danger. Being kidnapped by two vampires, one to get to Buffy and the other because of a cheating girlfriend - neither because of her own appeal. "My first thought is that even if it was specifically at me, it still wouldn't be that personal. But I don't know."

"No jilted, broken-hearted exes, no scorned admirers?"

"My long time crush didn't notice until too late, my first boyfriend turned out to be a demon on the internet, using me and has been dismembered, presumably slain. My second efforts at dating cheated on me, tried to kill me, and left the country. My third effort at dating turned out to be using me to keep the Slayer from attacking. Now there's Remy," Willow sighed, reminded about how much her dating history sucked. "I really hope things go better with Remy."

"I can see why you'd want a better ending this time," Tante Mattie shook her head.

"I've been trying to find ways to protect my mind, after a few things," Willow decided not to go into the disasters that had prompted those efforts. About Xander being split, about Tara's selective blindings, about Drusilla's mind whammy on Giles. The way that she'd had nightmares after Giles had been questioned, about her fears that someone might be replacing her memories. Her wild fears when she'd figured out things were not right with Amy the rat and Amy studying with Giles in Sunnydale.

"Remy speaks well of you, an' you make good potions. I know some people, we can get your memories sorted out, take the meddlin' away from your mind. Maybe take care of some of the gaps in your trainin'. Meanwhile, maybe you can keep Remy out of trouble, or mix up a few more potions," Tante Mattie spoke firmly her words less an offer and more a demand.

"I'm a lot stronger than I was when I first started, but I don't know if I can keep Remy out of trouble. There are some things that even magic can't do," Willow still found herself smiling at Remy. She really hoped this wouldn't end like Moloch, like Oz, like Tara.

For a moment, Tante Mattie looked thoughtful, before she nodded, "I suppose that's true enough. He is quite a handful."

Willow nodded – Remy was very much a handful. A very appealing handful, and she hoped that ten years down the road, she'd think he was worth the trouble and confusion. That she wouldn't regret him. She also hoped that trusting Tante Mattie and Remy's family wasn't a mistake. "Even if the truth is ugly, I don't want my memories to stay messed up. And if it is all about getting close to Buffy, then things could go very badly if the truth doesn't come out.

"We can help you get better at many things, if you're willing to work at it. Time wit' Remy help your French. Maybe someone will ask you for a bit of help now an' then, a potion here, a warding there. Perhaps a magical look over for a place or an object. Once you learn a few basics, I think Belladonna's people will teach you if only so they can ask you questions about what a Slayer can really do an' how they train," Tante Mattie mused.

Willow smiled, not mentioning that Tante Mattie's words about people asking for small things here and there – for potions and magical inspections, for small wardings and information on Slayer training actually made her feel better. They wanted something from her, and they were willing to help her learn things to get what they wanted. A basic trade. "I also know a spell to revoke a vampire's invitation to a home. If anyone's interested, I can teach it to them. It really isn't that difficult."

"Lot of people might like somethin' like that," Tante Mattie smiled at her.

Willow began to feel that this might work out pretty well after all.

End Small Favor 19: Considering Needs


	20. Building Connections

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Willow considered her computer and the possibilities that it held. On the other hand, there were the memories of past injuries from patrolling with Buffy, injuries that she might have avoided with better training. Here, she had the chance to get some training.

"Okay, Remy. Why are you the one talking to me about something that someone named Dine wants? And what is Dine offering in exchange?" She wasn't going to depend on someone saving her every time she was in danger. That didn't always work.

"Dine be wanting some protections on a studio. Ways to help keep the place in better shape, prevent problems from starting. Officially, Dine teaches many types of dancing. Offer is, if you can place some protections up, have some basic lessons. Officially a dance class, to help wit' balance an' timing, and maybe a basic self defense off de records. Remy be someone you know, so Remy be a good choice to bring de offer, make sure you know it be real," Remy grinned at her.

"Are we meaning things like magical bug repellent and protection against water damage, or are we meaning things to keep people from losing their temper and punching holes in the walls?" Willow asked. The bargain sounded fair enough, and without understanding the basics, any more advanced lessons would be useless. And having someone that she knew talk to her was a lot better than some stranger trying to offer her a deal.

"Somet'ing like bug repellent be good for basics, keeping people from fighting be a lot more complicated," Remy paused. "Can you do dat? Keep people from getting angry like dat."

Willow turned to face Remy, and sighed. "As in, is such a spell ward possible? Yes, with a few limitations. As in, can I cast one? I'd need some ingredients that aren't at the natural foods store, a couple special diagrams, and some chanting, and I wouldn't be able to cast a whole lot for the next couple days, but... if I could get the ingredients, yes."

Remy blinked for a few moments before he whispered, "What sort of limitations be attached to dat?"

"A certain area of effect, and it makes it a lot tougher to get angry, but not impossible - kind of like a magic tranquilizer, but not the sort that makes you sleepy. And it would wear off, faster if people try to get angry, but probably in about a year or so." Willow explained.

"Remy be impressed," he murmured. "Dine be t'inkin' about keepin' de bugs an' water out, not keepin' people calm."

"Cool, I can do that. It looks like I'll be working Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and the occasional Fridays, and all of it in the mornings. We can go talk to Dine and set up a time for the magic and figure out when I'd have lessons," Willow smiled. Life in New Orleans was looking up. "I'll have classes starting at the University the week after next, so we can just keep that schedule in mind too."

"Y' goin' to be movin' to the campus?" Remy asked.

"I asked, but all the student housing was already full for the school year," Willow shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to live in a dorm room again anyhow, but it was a bit frustrating that the option wasn't there.

"Dat means nobody at school be trackin' when you got places t' be," Remy smiled. "Easier to hide special lessons an' favors dat way."

"A very good point," Willow admitted. "But I can't stay in Tony and Callie's spare room forever."

"Don' worry, we figure out somet'ing," Remy waved his hand, dismissing her concern.

Willow just grinned. Remy was good at figuring things out and making arrangements.

end part 1.

In Los Angeles, Wesley looked at the telephone, attempting to gather his courage and meager amount of acting ability. He would be making a call to Sunnydale, and parts of what he intended to say would be less than truthful, and it was important that his falsehoods not be detected.

Miss Rosenberg had become a valued correspondent since he'd left Sunnydale, someone that he was starting to feel that he could comfortably call a friend. Granted that many of their conversations had involved him asking for help with computers, or questions about various menaces that had threatened Sunnydale, but... He'd come to like the young woman. He didn't have enough friends to dismiss one for being a handful of years his junior.

What she'd had to say recently had been heart-wrenching, even if parts of it were thoroughly normal sounding. Friends often grew apart, even without hunting monsters and destinies. It was understandable that Giles was focusing on Miss Summers, the Slayer, rather than a young woman who had developed an interest in magic. Her romantic woes - which she had thankfully not gone into detail concerning - were unfortunate, but common enough, if you substitute some other concealed problem for Miss Maclay's demon heritage, and some other excuse for the infidelity and abandonment of Mr. Osbourne other than lycanthropy.

But now someone was meddling with her memories. That was beyond the normal trials of adulthood. She'd confessed her uncertainty over both the scale and the possible causes, and had asked him for help. Not any of her on-line magical contacts, not Giles the experienced Watcher - him. From what she'd said, the question of Amy Madison was the key to determining the scale of the meddling with her memories, and so that was what he would start with. If there was an 'Amy Madison' in Sunnydale, then the likely causes and motives were different than if the other witch was only human again in Willow's memories. They had to know before they could start trying to fix things.

Though there would be separate questions about just what could be fixed. Some things couldn't be made whole again after disaster, much like eggs and fine crystal.

The part of his plan that he disliked the most would be that it played up the poor impression that he'd made in Sunnydale. He would be calling to ask about a magical problem, claiming hopes that the magical assistance for Miss Summers could help with this problem, which was unfortunately a bit beyond his experience. Asking for help puzzling out some magical riddles and identifying how to break some 'confusing and potentially dangerous' spells. He'd be certain to ask plenty of obnoxiously pedantic questions, in hopes of learning exactly who was offering assistance and how much. Ideally there would be a speaker-phone in use. It would play up the innate desire to seem knowledgeable and superior that most people had, and also call upon the impression that they had of him as someone rather clueless about the real world, tolerable but thinking himself strong on theory and quite lacking in practical experience. In short, they'd think that they were helping poor clueless Wesley save someone.

He wasn't that clueless anymore, though he had been… well, he'd matured considerably since leaving Sunnydale in disgrace. And he didn't need to worry about his pretended helplessness endangering anyone, as he wasn't planning to use a real and current threat. Though there had been the oddly resourceful mechanical dogs that had chased Angel the other month…

Wesley picked up the phone and dialed the number for Rupert Giles. "Mr. Giles? I was hoping that you could offer a bit of assistance with a problem that I've encountered…"

End part 2.

Remy had taken Willow out for dinner at this little dockside place. Someone who didn't know exactly what to look for would have missed it, had she been by herself Willow probably wouldn't have even been in the area. In fact, she wasn't quite certain it was so much a restaurant as a place where some of the local fishermen went for food after a long day on the water. The cook was a large man with a thick Cajun accent that Remy knew – Willow was starting to suspect that Remy knew people everywhere in New Orleans.

She wasn't entirely certain what dinner was, beyond fresh and hot and spicy. She could recognize the shrimp, and the fresh cornbread, but most of the rest was a mystery. She rather doubted that it would be kosher, but since she'd mostly given that up…

"Take you over to talk to Dine after this. You can sort out when be a good time around de job an' classes. Dine be quite a character," Remy grinned at her.

Willow nodded, sipping at her very sweet tea to sooth the heat of the spices. "So, what is Dine short for? Claudine? Almondine? I have an aunt in San Francisco named Bernadine. Deana, maybe?"

"Remy never ask." His smirk suggested that there was something there, some hidden story that he had no intention of sharing.

The studio itself was outside of the city limits, in a quiet seeming area with a yard dotted with shrubs that Remy assured her would be covered with flowers come springtime. Willow had been smiling, understanding the reasoning for wanting some sort of bug repellent – the whole place looked like it was built from wood and glass. As for water, well, New Orleans was a port city, and parts of it were actually below sea-level, so something to keep water out was also quite sensible. Somehow, someone had died on the sidewalk, right beside one of the currently leafless thorny bushes – Willow wasn't certain, but she thought it had been decades ago. She didn't ask about that, uncertain if she really wanted to know, or if Dine would know if she did ask.

Dine had met them at the doorway, beaming at them both. Tall, graceful, and clad in a ruffed red dress with beautiful hair and make-up… part of Willow wanted to hate her the way that she'd hated Cordelia. Red skirts had swirled as she'd hugged Remy and then half-squished Willow in a firm hug that smelled of citrus and spices. Dine had a nice voice too, low and a touch husky – the sort of voice that sent minds right into naughty territory. "You must be Willow; I'm so glad to see you. I'm hoping that you can help me with a little more protection for my studio, insurance rates can be so aggravating, and then even if things are covered there's still the hassle and delay of getting things repaired…"

As Willow was towed through a whirlwind tour of the small studio, listening to the energetic Dine chatter about the history of the studio and the variety of classes and lessons offered, her first thoughts were that Dine moved like a model. The careful posture, the confidence, the smooth motions that somehow always looked like they should be the focus of a photograph… There was just something a little off…

She couldn't put the off-ness into words until she closed her eyes to get a feel for the energy patterns of the place. After all, sometimes the local energies or the history of a building could affect the proper set up for magical rituals. The energy flows were nice, not snarled up by the neighbors or old rituals or weird local eddies and sinks like Sunnydale. She could also feel the energies of Remy and Dine, energies that felt far more similar than they should. That was when it clicked for her – the tall, energetic Dine was… well, tall, and elegant and energetic, but at the very least, Dine had started out under the masculine pronoun and accessories.

Willow wasn't about to ask if there had been surgical work as well as changes of wardrobe. She did wonder if Remy knew that Dine's history had once upon a time been the story of a young boy, and if that was why he'd had that smirk when she'd asked what Dine was shortened from. It didn't really matter.

"I can put in a bug-be-gone ward tonight, if you give me about ten minutes to prepare. It'll involve walking around with some stinky herbs and a bit of chanting, but if any neighbors see, we can pass it off as a natural treatment to get rid of hornet nests. Maybe twenty minutes tops. A ward against flooding will take a bit longer to set up, and I'll need to bury some small stones – no bigger than a peach pit – at the cardinal directions. Just a little off from the corners. A bit more chanting, and then that's set," Willow smiled, opening her eyes back up.

"Remy explained about the basic lessons in return for the wardings?" Dine asked.

Willow nodded, a tiny part of her jealous of Dine's elegant lined and shadowed and mascara'd eyes. Beautiful make up around very nice hazel eyes. "What sort of beginner's dance classes have you got that I can work around my probable work-schedule for the official part-time job, and the upcoming classes?"

A bit of schedule comparison later, they had decided that Willow would be joining the adult beginner's jazz class on Mondays, with a lesson in basic self defense Wednesday afternoons. She'd show up early Monday and start with the water-proofing, since while it would be a bit tiring, magically, but shouldn't cause her problems with what was supposed to be a light to moderate physical work out.

Magic seemed so much simpler when she had a good idea of what would be asked of her and was offered more in exchange than 'we can't let the demons eat people' or 'we have to stop this attempted apocalypse'. She wouldn't have to hide her magic, or squeeze it in between homework and dating and trying to find a part time job when there were so many other applicants with better people skills that interviewed better. She might even be able to find a teacher that wasn't out to take over or destroy the world, or 'just eat some people'.

While she didn't want to get her hopes too high, or tempt fate and Murphy, it looked like things were looking up.

End part 3.

Willow should have expected the goodbye kiss from Remy as he dropped her back at Callie and Tony's place. That didn't keep her knees from feeling wobbly or her stomach from acquiring a flock of butterflies, all of them wanting to get out. She was still smiling as she walked up the steps, fingers touching her lips. "He's smooth… real smooth."

"Those Cajun boys are trouble," Callie's voice was amused. "Very charming trouble."

With a smile, Willow murmured "the charm is to make us overlook the trouble. It's pretty effective."

Callie nodded. "I suppose that whatever Remy had planned went well enough? Is there anything you wanted to talk about?"

"Eventually, you're going to want me to move out of your spare room. Which means that I need a place to move to, and… well, it won't be a dorm room for school, because they're all full. So I need somewhere else. Maybe an apartment or something. Somewhere that has enough space, somewhere that my magic supplies and hopefully studies won't cause awkward questions, and somewhere that I won't have to worry about vampires and demons attacking all the time. And somewhere that I can afford on a limited budget," Willow sighed. As if the she didn't have other things to worry about, what with the tampered memories, the speculation about what or who could be behind that and why. Her hopes and worries about Remy and what could happen with them, and if it would go well or end in tragedy. Sunnydale nightmares.

"I can't offer much advice about the monsters or the magic, but I can help you look into finding a place," Callie paused. "Let me get some coffee for us, and then we can talk."

Tony came in about a half hour later, as they were talking about some of the apartment buildings and complexes near the campus. He dropped a duffel bag beside the chair, and tucked an envelope between a couple of Callie's books before shuffling over to the table. "Don' want to move to delaCour. Security dere is a joke, an' some of the people be best used as alligator bait."

"That statement have anything to do with your trip out tonight?" Willow arched one eyebrow at Tony. "You've got blood on your sleeve. Is it yours, and if so, have you got that taken care of yet? Bandages and antiseptic."

Something unhappy and French was muffled by his hand, but Willow suspected that if his words had been anything she understood, they would have been very impolite. And he probably hadn't had his arm properly looked at yet.

Inspecting his arm revealed that he had a fairly straight cut on his arm, running about five inches. His 'taking care of it' had turned out to be wrapping the shirt he'd been wearing around the wound to hold it closed and try to keep the bleeding under control. There were also quite a few bruises, and he was limping a bit, but Tony swore there were no other injuries that they needed to fuss over. Callie fussed anyhow, cleaning the wound with some clear liquid that she kept in a green bottle beneath the sink that, judging from Tony's reaction, burned terribly on the wound. She then gave him a few crooked stitches, apologizing about using a dark blue that showed up against his skin even as she wrapped the cut in bandages.

"So, if I don't want to stay there, do you have a suggestion?" Willow asked.

"Not yet, but maybe Remy an' I look into a few t'ings, see 'bout a couple ideas. Maybe we get a suggestion for you. May have neighbors who don' always follow all de laws, but…" Tony shrugged.

"That would be different how?" Willow looked at him, thinking back to the things she'd found on him. "I've seen your police record. And remember how I met Remy in the first place. There's also the fact that my friends and I back in Sunnydale… we may have… bent a few laws… broken a few… when we were fighting demons and vampires. And that's completely stepping around the rocket launcher."

"Dat makes sense. Hard to t'ink of you breaking laws, Red. Y' seem like such a nice femme," Tony flashed a tired smile, and sighed. "Dere be lots of nasty people in de world."

Willow could only agree with that. "I guess if you and Remy will ask a few questions, and you aren't trying to push me out just yet, I'll… just go to my room and let the pair of you get some rest yourselves. You look like you could use it, Tony."

Tony made a vague noise, and Callie nodded.

When she got to her room, she went to her computer. Among the various emails was one from Wesley, with the subject line 'Amy in the Sun'. Willow figured that there were two options – either he'd found some information regarding her memory confusion, or his email account had been used by a spam-bot that was sending porn.

It wasn't porn. His email, far more formal and letter-like than most that she received, was fairly brief.

Miss Rosenberg,

I made a telephone call to Sunnydale to ask for the assistance of Mr. Giles with a problem encountered in LA. Rest assured that the problem was fabricated, though I did make use of several aspects of real situations that we have encountered.

While this has reinforced the impression of an ill-prepared buffoon among those who remained in Sunnydale, Mr. Giles was quite willing to volunteer his time, as well as the assistance of Miss Anya Jenkins and Miss Amy Madison to help with my vexing problems. I confess that had it been a genuine problem instead of a thinly veiled effort to determine the presence or absence of a Miss Madison or sufficiently disguised impersonator, I should have felt quite grateful for the assistance.

The relevant aspects are 1) there is no magical crisis in LA that we need help from Sunnydale to solve. 2) There is someone using the identity of Amy Madison in Sunnydale, in close with Mr. Giles and Miss Summers. 3) Miss Summers seems to believe that you are avoiding them due to some issue with your parents or perhaps classes – she seemed a bit vague on the details. I did not ask too many questions.

We will be looking into possible explanations for the Sunnydale Miss Madison later. Appropriate information on undoing memory modifications will be sent to you shortly – research is going on as I type. Angel and Miss Chase were both quite concerned for your safety, and were somewhat reassured when I informed them that you were not sulking alone in Sunnydale but had relocated to Louisiana. You may receive emails or phone calls asking for additional information. Please keep a careful eye on the rat Amy, though we are in agreement that she is probably not much of a current danger, being a rat in a cage.

Your friend,

Wesley Wyndham-Price.

"You write the most formal emails I've ever seen, Wes." She couldn't help smiling at the idea that at least some of the people that she knew from before were worried about her. Not who she'd have expected, but someone was better than no one, right?

It wasn't a solution yet, but at least he'd found a few answers for her. That was a start.

End part 4.

End Small Favor 20: Building Connections


	21. For What Ails

Thursday afternoon, Willow slipped into Callie and Tony's house, feeling tired. The morning had been spent unpacking boxes at Bayou Moon - tedious, but necessary for a store. She'd pulled out a little notebook and copied down the return address for the shipment of crystals, and the one for the assorted incense. There was supposed to be a shipment of herbs on Monday, prompting the request that she be there early and ready to help unload and stock shelves again.

Part of her really wanted to do something more demanding than bring boxes in, open boxes, unpack and shelve - repeat for about seven hours. Another part of her wanted to do something towards fixing the mess of her life. Another part wanted to talk to Tante Mattie about fixing her memory, learning who and specifically why her, and how to keep it from ever happening again. Except that she didn't have a direct way to contact that woman.

With a sigh, she took a quick shower, and changed into clothing that wasn't dusty and smelling of too much patchouli and cayenne pepper. Combing through her hair, she decided that it would probably be too early for emails from Wesley or anyone else at Angel Investigations, she still had no direct way to contact Tante Mattie... and she was almost out of her bruise paste and sore muscle oils.

"I wanted productive, that'll do," she nodded to herself and began assembling her things. Some herbs, a few oils, beeswax, honey, and a couple mineral powders, as well as some small bowls, a mortar and pestle, and bottles and jars for the finished medicines. Wanting a bit of light, she set up her things in the kitchen. The fact that it had the benefit of being near the coffee-maker was an added bonus, not the whole reason... really...

Willow was just pouring the sore muscle oil into a second tall, slender bottle when a figure shambled into the kitchen, bumping into the doorway and adjusting course. The oddly pale complexion, wild hair and rumpled clothing at first made her think 'undead', which didn't match the bright patches of sunshine and the absence of the stench of rot. The figure shambled towards the coffee, mumbling curses about 'bright light' and 'moving counters'.

The voice connected it for Willow, and she smothered a giggle. It was obvious that Tony hadn't managed nearly enough sleep... Feeling helpful, she floated a mug out of the cupboard, and poured some coffee into it, along with the appalling amount of sugar that Tony took in his coffee. It was enough to make her teeth hurt just watching.

Tony blinked at the cup that settled on the counter. One hand rubbed over his face before he shrugged, picked up the cup and gulped down about a third of it.

Willow finished pouring the oil, and then sipped at her own cup of coffee. "I hope whatever has you looking rather zombie-like was worth it."

"Guess so," Tony mumbled, then took another swallow of the coffee, "De coffee... hot coffee... how it get dere in front o' me?"

"You looked like you needed it, so I floated you a cup," Willow shrugged, and considered the rest of the oil. Maybe enough for a small bottle. "There's more in the pot."

"Y' used magic on de coffee?" Tony blinked at his cup before shuffling over, putting three heaping spoons of sugar in the cup and then pouring in coffee.

"I used magic on the cup, the sugar spoon, and the coffee-pot. Not the coffee itself," Willow corrected. "And all I did was move things, just not with my hands. They were full."

"Don' look like breakfess..." Tony mumbled before taking a swallow of coffee.

"Magical medicine. This is for sore muscles, next up is a bruise balm," She considered him for a moment, "Do either of them sound like something that would help you at the moment?"

"Bot' soun' good," Tony's words were still slurred, but easier to understand. "Got anyt'ing to keep from getting infection?"

Willow considered that, remembering the scrape on his arm, remembering patching Remy up after the robot-dogs, remembering the many scrapes and cuts she'd picked up in Sunnydale. "I can mix that one up in my sleep. I might have on a few occasions..."

"Lot more useful den some o' de magic I seen," Tony sipped at his coffee again. "Most o' what I see be good twenny years down de road, not so good f'r t'morrow."

"And most of what you've seen has been from a different style of leaning than 'got to keep the monsters from killing us tonight and destroying the world tomorrow', I bet," Willow countered. "I don't know most of the long-term stuff. My magical training has been… rather patchy and based on books, a few immediately needed tricks, and things that I've figured out for myself."

"Sounds…" Tony shook his head. "Not be a good way t' learn most t'ings."

"Not really the best way to learn magic either," Willow swallowed the last of the coffee in her cup. "But sometimes you don't get what you want, you have to make do with what you've got. I'm hoping to get some lessons in that while I'm here as well as how to defend myself."

"How long y' planning t' be in N'Awlins?" Tony looked at her, starting to look more awake, more like a living human.

Willow considered him for a long moment, and then sighed, "Right now, I don't have any firm plans to leave. I probably need to move out of your spare room eventually, but hopefully not until I've got somewhere to go. I don't really have anything to go back to Sunnydale for…"

"Y' talk to Tante Mattie 'bout leaning new magic?" Tony asked.

"Sort of, but not in any detail, and I don't have a number for her," Willow admitted.

"Got a way to get a message to her," Tony admitted. "One 'f her granddaughters be… well… Tony can get a message to Lottie, an' Lottie can get de message to her Gran, and dere you go."

For a moment, Willow wondered if Lottie might be an ex-girlfriend of Tony's, before she decided that it didn't really matter. "That'd be nice."

"I get de message t'rough for you," Tony promised.

"Thanks," Willow beamed at him. Then she refilled both coffee cups before starting on a thin salve to prevent infections. She figured that the bruise balm could follow that one, and then… maybe she'd check her email after that.

End part 1.

When Willow finally checked her email, there were the expected useless things, including a reminder from UC Sunnydale about the deadline to register for next year's financial aid. Giving that one a brief, bitter chuckle, she continued on down the list. The one that she was most and also least eager to see was from Wesley, with the subject line "RE: Memory Problems", and apparently with several attachments.

Heart feeling like it was fluttering in her throat, Willow opened the email and started a virus scan on the attachments, just in case.

Miss Rosenberg,

It pains me to admit that there is something clearly wrong in Sunndyale. A few additional calls regarding the same invented problem as well as a discussion of several Watcher texts have given me the impression that the presumed Miss Madison in Sunnydale is considered to be a valued and trusted member of the research and support team, with Mr. Giles offering considerable praise for her magical potential. The mentions of you were solely in context of computer issues.

While I do not believe your magical education has been as thorough in the basics or as cautious as I would hope, I do know that you show strong potential and have experienced remarkable results, though not always as intended. As a side note, I hope that you might search out some further education in the magical basics, and I shall send you a copy of some of the basic theory and meditational exercises that all Watchers are supposed to use. You may or may not be aware that most Watchers are trained in a few magical skills, even though few learn more than a smattering of useful and fairly simple things to enhance basic safety.

I am most troubled by the fact that the Miss Madison in Sunnydale is considered a valued friend, and that Miss Summers and Miss Madison are often shopping together. I fear that this Miss Madison may be seeking to influence the Slayer for some nefarious end… but I digress.

Attached are the scanned pages containing two rituals to uncover and reverse simple mind-altering spells. Another is a recipe for a tea that is believed to enhance the mind's natural defenses – while this is not the best solution, I do not see how it could hurt. There is also an anointing oil that can offer a defense for the mind for a time, but it should not be used more often than once a week at most, preferably no more than once a fortnight. Which is two weeks, if the American educational system has not covered that term.

You have my hopes that your time outside of Sunnydale will be safe and beneficial. I have been instructed to ask if your cellular still has the same number, and when would be a good time for Angel or Cordelia to call you.

Sincerely,

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

Willow again found herself smiling at the formality of Wesley's email. It was more like he was writing out a letter, and just using the computer instead of paper – which sounded remarkably like Wesley, now that she thought about it. For a moment, she found herself wondering just what Angel or Cordelia would want to say, as neither had been that close when they were still in Sunnydale.

In her reply, she made certain to note the better times for someone to call, both in the afternoons and the evening for Angel. She assured them that she still had the same number, her emails were still the same except the UC Sunnydale one, and she was already making arrangements to learn some very useful things. She'd look into those memory repairs, and was trying to find a good local teacher, though Wesley's book would be very welcome. She also noted that rat-Amy seemed to be in good health.

The first ritual that Wesley had sent was simple enough, requiring an open area that she could chalk in a protective circle, burning a few protective herbs, and a candle to help her focus, then some chanting and calling on powers of wisdom, memory and clear thought. Willow considered the bedroom floor for a moment, and then decided to check out the little balcony behind the house. The inside floor didn't look well suited to chalk lines. A few herbs for protection, cleansing, and clarity, a bit of almond oil to bind it together… she could do this today.

With only a little rearrangement, Willow was able to get her chalked circle, just large enough for her to sit inside, on the semi-enclosed balcony. She had a little bronze bowl with the herbs and a bit of almond oil, and after a bit of thought set it onto a metal and ceramic trivet, just to make certain there wouldn't be a scorched mark on the floor. She set the trivet and bowl to the east, and turned a bit more towards the bulk of thou house, feeling like that gave her knees a bit more clearance. A flicker of thought lit the candle and then the herbs, and Willow began murmuring her invocation.

Willow's world seemed to narrow to nothing more than the pale candle, the scent of herbs, and the dancing flame. She couldn't say how long she sat there, the words flowing without further thought. Tears began flowing down her cheeks as things that had been blurred sharpened in her mind. Her grief when Jesse had died… been turned, and then staked. Seeing Drusilla and Angelus following her on several occasions during her junior year. The lectures and trips to the UC Sunnydale library. Her dates with Tara, which had been vague yet enjoyable, until the awful revelation – now revealed as discussions of herbs and lunar calendars, comparing various pantheons, and discussing why some neo-pagans opted to go vegetarian – had been pleasant times. Tara might have been a good friend, except for the whole trying to use her part. The painful days after Oz left became well defined memories of misery, instead of a blurred, pained haze.

She remembered trying to de-rat Amy again, calling on Hecate on Amy's behalf. She'd heard the door open, and then… There was a feeling of terrible wrongness, and she couldn't remember anything until Buffy had returned from patrol, turning on the lights and Willow trying to explain the blanket-covered lump as the now de-ratted Amy… and the small rat curled up in the cage on her desk. Remembered Amy-the-rat being there, but her not seeming to really notice, despite continuing to feed and water the transformed witch. Remembered seeing the 'Amy Madison' with Buffy and Anya a few times, seeing 'Amy' make a few gestures before Willow had found herself going elsewhere… Seeing 'Amy' make a few gestures before 'Amy' had been receiving instruction from Giles and Anya…

"I still don't remember what really happened when I tried to de-rat Amy that last time," Willow whispered. "That must mean… whatever blanked that out must have been a more complicated effort than covering the other things."

She wondered who was in Sunnydale pretending to be Amy, and why. How long they would pretend to be Amy Madison. If Amy was the first identity that they'd stolen.

End part 2.

Trembling, Willow extinguished the candle with a thought, and then twisted to look at the bowl that had held oil and herbs. It was now empty, with a thin layer of ashes over the interior. Moving her hand towards it, she decided that it was still too warm to pick up, and left it there. She lurched to her feet, discovering both of her legs had fallen asleep while she was fussing with her memories. Her eyes also felt dry and scratchy.

"Ohhh… not fun," Willow grumbled. "Coffee will help… coffee makes everything better."

Tony was in the kitchen, looking clean and grinning. "Dat oil be good t' soak in. De oil, a little of the goop t' prevent infection… 's all good."

"Glad you're feeling better, Willow gave a small smile as she staggered towards the table, deciding to just float the coffee to her rather than stumble around more. "My legs went to sleep on me."

"Dis got somet'ing t' do wit' whatever you doing on de balcony?" Tony asked.

"Bingo. Sit down for… however long and don't move and of course your legs go to sleep," Willow caught the floating coffee cup. "It needed to be done, but…"

"Sometimes, what need t' be done not be any fun," Tony finished.

"Right," Willow agreed. "Did you talk to Lottie?"

"Oui, an' Lottie says she be over to talk t' you 'bout what you know an' don' know. Lottie know a bit about magic herself, but not de complicated, big t'ings," Tony explained.

"So here's a question," Willow began. Part of her wondered if Lottie had been one of the people Remy had meant when he said he knew people and people who knew people, and magical training could be arranged if she came to New Orleans. "No matter how nice and generous Lottie may be, teaching me will take time, either her's or whoever she finds to teach me. What will she want in return?"

"mmm. Lottie be hopeless wit' computers, anyt'ing electronic really," Tony mused. "Maybe if Lottie teach you, you set her up wit' a computer she can use? We figure somet'ing out if someone else teach you."

"Set up a computer and maybe lessons in what to do with it, in return for magical basics that someone should have taught me a couple years back," Willow pondered the idea. "Sounds fair enough."

"Umm… a word o' warning?" Tony looked nervous, and then sighed. "Lottie… she's… she's very fluttery. Comes across as needy, scatter-minded, sweet an' not too bright. She is an' she not like dat."

"So she isn't as shallow and silly as people think?" Willow wondered if she'd be dealing with someone like Cordelia – no, most had figured that Cordelia was smart, and nobody associated Cordelia with sweet. Maybe more like a Harmony… eeeeh, she hoped not. "And she's well connected to people who can make your life absolutely miserable if you try to play nasty games."

"Oui," Tony nodded.

"So when will I meet her?" Willow asked.

"Lottie be over t'morrow at two," Tony shrugged.

"I'll try to be ready," Willow promised.

"So what you be doing tonight" Tony waved his hand at the coffee. "Y' look like you want to be up an' about."

"Remy's going to give me a combination walking tour and French lesson, and maybe dinner," Willow tried not to blush. "He also mentioned that we might stop by to talk to someone who might want a little basic magic in trade for something yet to be discussed."

"If you be planning to get into trading favor for favor, maybe you be willing to find some information on de computer for some people, hmmm?" Tony mused.

"That… might depend on what the information is," Willow considered the idea. Tony almost certainly meant thieves, meant for her to give information to help steal things… But she'd hired a thief, and she had considered that there was a very good, very big reason why that wasn't a bad thing. "And how tough it would be to get the information. There are limits to what I can do."

"So dat be a maybe?" Tony poured her more coffee.

"A maybe," Willow agreed, hoping that she wasn't being charmed into a mistake.

End part 3.

"Belle Willow," Remy smiled at her, holding out a pale flower.

"You are a charming flirt," Willow told Remy as she took the flower, inhaling the sweet scent. Glancing at him, she tucked the flower behind her ear, and smiled, "You mentioned a tour and French lesson?"

And so the tour began. Remy would point out historic buildings, and murmur some things about the building's history, as well as describing the building – all in French. He'd murmur comments about some of the people they passed, describing them in French. The idea was learning by immersion, and being able to match the words with what she could see. They ended up at a small restaurant that served delicious food, accompanied by lively music unlike anything Willow had heard in Sunnydale. She wasn't entirely certain if she liked the music, or rather, if she'd like it elsewhere, but it fit the moment.

The restaurant had spells on it. Spells to prevent pests and water damage, spells to help preserve the food, to keep the customers content. She could feel them, neat and orderly and probably better cast than what she could manage. "I wonder who did their spell-work?"

"Remy don' know dat, but next door be a place described as natural medicine. Maybe you be able to sell some of your bruise balm dere?"

Remy's grin made it impossible not to agree to stop in the little shop next to the restaurant. It felt like it had the same sort of spells, and they'd been cast by the same person. Willow glanced around the shop, wondering what she'd see inside such precise spells. There were herbs and crystals, candles with and without scents, and oils for perfume and aromatherapy and medical use. Books on massage and meditation and philosophy and some types of martial arts. Jars marked for bruises, scrapes, sore muscles, stress… Nothing about spirits or drawing on energies, nothing about assorted pantheons or how to use your power to improve your life, no dream catchers or dried bird-feet.

"Welcome to … Remy, what have you been up to, you charmer?" the woman smiled at Remy, with cheerful chocolate eyes, and a dozen little chocolate braids tipped with beads in blue and green emerging from under a soft blue scarf.

"Willow, dis be Nola, an' her shop. Nola, maybe you be interested in carrying some of Willow's medicines in your shop?" Remy smiled at the woman, "Y' know Remy only bring de best to your shop, Nola."

Nola shook her head, and glanced at Willow, "You be careful with this one, girl. He charms women as easily as he breathes, and he's always up to something."

"I'd noticed the charming part, and had my suspicions about him being up to things," Willow admitted. "I'm just hoping he's not up to too much that I'd get mad about. Hoping he stays out of trouble is too much for anyone to ask."

"Hey!" Remy protested.

"You make natural medicines?" Nola asked Willow. "Along the lines of what I already have?"

"Probably a different recipe, but the same idea," Willow considered. "Does it help if I say that Remy likes my bruise balm?"

"Dat stuff for scrapes be pretty good to," Remy added.

"So you have good reason to know he's always in trouble," Nola smirked. "It does speak well for your medicines that Remy uses them."

"Thanks," Willow smiled.

"Why don't we talk about what you have, and what I might put on my shelves…"

end part 4.

End Small Favor 21: For What Ails


	22. New Influences

sf22..sf22..sf22..sf22

Lottie had arrived a little before two, greeting Tony with a kiss on the cheek before giving Callie a similar kiss. She proved to be a smiling, cheerful young woman perhaps a few years older than Willow, with long gauzy sleeves and bangly, sparkling jewelry. Very feminine, somehow giving an old fashioned pretty damsel easily in distress sort of impression that Willow couldn't quite explain. She also gave an impression of endless energy and enthusiasm.

Willow had been extensively quizzed by Lottie on her magical knowledge, both general theory and knowledge of traditions. She'd had to agree with the way Tony had described the bubbly young woman - the first impression of Lottie was a cheerful, giggly scatter-brain. Lottie was the sort of vibrant, personable sort that gave an impression of being beautiful, though when Willow looked carefully Lottie was more pretty and curvy than 'beautiful'.

By the end of the afternoon, Lottie had concluded that Willow had a tragic number of gaps in her knowledge of traditions, and almost as many in her knowledge of basic magic. The fact that Willow knew quite a few unusual bits and had an abundance of frightening experiences and raw power didn't quite make up for the disgraceful patch-work education. Lottie had sighed and suggested one tutor for tradition and history and a few others for magical theories.

For her part, Willow had decided that while she and Lottie would probably not be the best of friends, they might make decent casual friends. She also suspected that Lottie would be interesting, if exhausting, to hang out with on occasion. And she knew just what sort of computer to put together for the cheerful woman.

New Orleans was shaping up to be much better than Sunnydale in almost every way that Willow could think of... Yes, the humidity could be smothering. Some of the food seemed to bite back from all the spices. There were still vampires and demons, as well as fully human menaces. Her closest friend's allies, and sort of boyfriend were either criminals or worked very closely with criminals. She was still trying to adapt to her schedule, with all the extra lessons - French, magical traditions, magical theory, dance from Dine, her part time job at Bayou Moon, and of course college. Add in trying to keep her friends from getting eaten and mixing up some of her herbal not quite potions for Nola's shop... So much to do and so little time to fit everything into!

"Those Harry Potter books had a brilliant idea with time-turners." Willow sighed, a small part of her mind wondering just what would be needed to make something like that, and how difficult it would be. The physical talisman would make it easier, as would having a semi-solid potion inside in the form of the 'sand', but to bend time...

"A good project for the long term, but not something that I'm anywhere near ready to even consider trying," Willow admitted. Maybe a good knowledge of physics might help.

"Be a reason you talking to yourself, belle Willow?" Remy's voice drawled from the doorway.

"My life is going to be very busy in the near future, and I was thinking that a way to give me more hours in the day would be fabulous. But I'm not aware of any such device, spell, or talisman, and the idea of making one... Let's just say that it might be something I could start tinkering with in a decade or so. Maybe," Willow smiled at him.

Walking closer, Remy offered, "Always good to have a long term goal as well as de short term."

"And what brings you here today, charmer?" She couldn't help smiling at Remy, or the warm, slightly confused feeling in her stomach. On the one hand, she knew full well that she was quite interested in Remy. On the other... there were so many reasons why it was probably a bad idea that she wasn't sure where to start.

"Two t'ings. Remy want to take you out for a nice meal, an' Remy be asked to see if you could find some information for some people," he moved towards her, catching her hand and kissing her fingers. "Remy always happy for an excuse t' see you."

"Did you need an excuse?" Willow murmured.

"Non, but Remy appreciate not getting in trouble," his eyes seemed to twinkle at her. "Got wit' Remy for a nice meal?"

"A nice meal sounds wonderful, and as for not getting into trouble..." Willow tried not to giggle. "I think you were born in trouble and still haven't escaped."

"Remy would be offended by dat statement, 'cept it prob'ly be true," he chuckled. "What be going to have you so busy?"

So Willow found herself explaining what would be taking up her time as they headed somewhere that Remy promised would have wonderful food. She mentioned that the lessons would probably level out, and she'd get used to them until they didn't feel like they were demanding that much time. She didn't expect the classes to be problematic as they were all fairly basic things. Maybe once she knew how her things would do at Nola's shop, she might be able to cut back on her hours at Bayou Moon, though it might be a bit soon to be thinking about changes to those hours. For now, she was only looking at about twenty hours a week, and all of them around her class schedule.

It might even be easier than Sunnydale, since instead of staying up late doing research to prevent the next possible apocalypse or demon invasion, it would just be classes, dance practice, and a bit of mixing potions and computer time. Nothing was supposed to be life-threatening or time-critical. It was a bit depressing that she'd forgotten what that felt like over the last three and a half years.

Looping her arm through Remy's, she glanced at him, feeling herself smile. "Do you think some of your family and colleagues might want some of my medicines? The bruise balm, the sore muscle oils, the ointment for scrapes?"

"Some will, some might try some, and others won' want stuff dey haven't already been using. 'Bout what you'd find anywhere," Remy shrugged. "Might end up wit' people askin' if lessons in a few practical skills be good enough for a trade for medicines instead of money."

Willow considered that for a few blocks before deciding, "That might depend on the lessons. I mean, the idea's good, but… sometimes you need specific details. Which can be worked out later, of course."

"Of course," Remy was grinning.

"What has you so happy, charmer?" Willow asked.

"Didn' Remy tell you once we get you t' N'Awlins, you never want to leave?"

"You…." Willow had no idea what to say. "At the very least, once I have a place that isn't Callie's spare room, I'll need to go back for my stuff."

"If you want, we can arrange for all your stuff to come to you," Remy offered. "No need t' go back t' de mouth of hell."

"Disturbingly tempting," Willow admitted. A part of her wondered if accepting that offer would be some sort of cowardice by not facing her friends and the issues while another part wondered if insisting on going herself would just be stubborn pride. "Ask me again when I have a place."

Remy just laughed. "Maybe we jus' need to make sure you be too busy to go get your t'ings yourself, hmm?"

"You're trouble," Willow found herself giggling. Remy was definitely a bad influence; one that she was enjoying. Just like she was enjoying New Orleans, and the chance to only worry about normal things – classes, job, boyfriend, slightly dangerous maybe-friend her parents wouldn't have approved. Granted, there were classes in how to fall safely and some basic punches and kicks, and soon to be lessons in magic. Granted her boyfriend was a thief. Granted the maybe-friend was Belladonna the assassin who might just be trying to learn enough to let her Assassin's Guild try to create someone sort of like a Slayer. Given all of that, and that there were still monsters munching on people and a real crime rate that was higher than she was used to in Sunnydale…

She couldn't imagine wanting to go back to how things had been in Sunnydale. Not when this was the alternative.

End part 1.

Willow had settled on a bench on the campus, with one of her new textbooks open in front of her. Classes would be starting soon, and she wanted to get an idea about the material before class. Maybe later she'd wander around and try to get a better idea where everything on the campus as before term began.

"Do you know how to enchant weapons?"

Willow managed not to shout, though she did drop the book and gather a little magic as she twisted to face the speaker.

Belladonna. She was dressed a bit more casually, in dark jeans and some sort of cowl-necked purple blouse that went well with her eyes, and the beads on her braids had been changed to match. Willow almost couldn't spot the weapons.

"Were you trying to sneak up on me, or was I that focused on my book?" Willow asked.

Belladonna only smirked.

"Enchanting weapons… it's sort of tricky. If you mean for trying to," Willow paused, glancing around and seeing nobody close enough to hear the conversations. "If you need to kill a demon or vampire tonight, I can do something that'd help. If you mean something that'll still be there next month, next year, a decade from now… No. I haven't learned how to make it stick long term yet. Most of the time we had to focus on short term, or we'd find something already enchanted. Which, by the way, I can identify is something is already enchanted. I just can't do it myself."

"Is that more advanced, or was your magical education just that scattered?" Belladonna tilted her head, the beads on her braids clicking as they moved.

"Yes to both," Willow sighed.

"Ahh," Belladonna dropped onto the bench, grinning at Willow. "Are you going to learn how to do that anytime soon?"

"Depends on what teachers I get, how fast they're willing to teach, and how fast I pick things up. I'll have a couple magic teachers pretty soon. But it's a bit early to know when I'll get to enchanting things. And I think making a specific effect, like not getting dull or glowing in the presence of a certain type of demon, or catching fire without burning the wielder or the weapon would be harder than just adding a magic owie on top of the cutty bashy owie," Willow explained.

Belladonna snickered, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk funny?"

Willow blinked, and then gave a hesitant smile, "maybe… and don't get me started babbling."

"There's a few things we've picked up over the years. Things with interesting stories that may or may not be magical. The stories say yes, but…" Belladonna shrugged. "Sometimes bad luck is just bad luck."

"I can check those things for you. We can figure out a good time?" Willow offered.

The good time ended up being next Tuesday, with someone picking her up at eight. Willow wondered why she felt a chill along her spine, but tried not to worry about it. Things were better here, she didn't have any enemies, and nobody would consider her a threat. There was nothing to worry about.

Right?

Willow tried to put the worry out of her mind as she watched Belladonna saunter away. Once the blonde assassin had left, she found herself unable to concentrate on her book. Instead she meandered around the campus, hoping to figure out where she'd need to go for her classes, where the offices and library were located, and anything else that sounded like a 'might need or want to know' facility.

After a while, Willow made her way back to the house. She needed to get her life together here, and the classes would be a good start. Classes, a part time job to keep her from over-stressing about class, and Remy. She doubted Remy would let her over-stress about anything.

There was a request for information from one of Remy's friends, wanting everything on blueprints and maybe security measures for a particular house, address provided. That little checking of blueprints for one of Remy's friends didn't take long. She also did a bit of online research for Wesley about a talisman they'd found in a demon lair. The talisman proved to be an heirloom luck-charm, which were rarely magical, not that she'd be able to check that without seeing the object. Besides, Wes would be able to check that much on his own.

Maybe she was taking on a lot. But Willow needed to learn the right ways to base her magic, things she should have been taught earlier, back when she first began to move things and help mix up potions. It was also long past time to learn the basics of self defense. Classes for a real career and a part time job to help pay for said classes… well, why not? She didn't want to be a student or stuck in unskilled jobs forever, and she wasn't sure how much she could depend on magical dabbler and free-lance computer work to pay for things. And Remy… Remy had slipped into her life and she wasn't sure if he could be removed with a crowbar, not that she wanted to try.

Besides, a busy Willow wouldn't be a Willow moping about Sunnydale. Wouldn't be stressing over the two Amys. Wouldn't be trying to go too fast in fixing her memories – because memories were tricky. She didn't want enough time to mope or get all depressed. Busy was good.

End part 2.

End Small Favor 22: New Influences


End file.
